Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mongolia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ultramagnetic MC's to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by A Certain Ratio. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Buzzcocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Infiniti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Wire,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Al Stewart,
Camberwell Now,
The Victims,
Electric Prunes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Bauhaus,
Graham Central Station,
Dead Boys,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Association,
Bobby Womack,
Aaron Thompson,
Sixth Finger,
John Foxx,
Marmalade,
The Mummies,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gun Club,
Alphaville,
DJ Sneak,
the Germs,
Inner City,
Donald Byrd,
Pharoah Sanders,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Severed Heads,
Mars,
Porter Ricks,
Camouflage,
Moby Grape,
Eve St. Jones,
Sun City Girls,
The Evens,
The Knickerbockers,
Roger Hodgson,
Scan 7,
Hot Snakes,
Bob Dylan,
Radio Birdman,
Urselle,
Deepchord,
Von Mondo,
Derrick Morgan,
Arcadia,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Schoolly D,
Das Ding,
Amazonics,
Dawn Penn,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bill Near,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.