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 Bahamas and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Al Stewart to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
Todd Terry,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Slits,
Crooked Eye,
Glenn Branca,
Charles Mingus,
The Standells,
Moss Icon,
Television Personalities,
Gang Starr,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter and Kerry,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
Aaron Thompson,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pantaleimon,
The American Breed,
Oneida,
X-Ray Spex,
Skriet,
Warsaw,
Rekid,
Bronski Beat,
Spandau Ballet,
Robert Görl,
Echospace,
Alphaville,
The Moleskins,
Khruangbin,
The New Christs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Invisible,
Traffic Nightmare,
Erasure,
Von Mondo,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Johnny Clarke,
Danielle Patucci,
Youth Brigade,
Gastr Del Sol,
The J.B.'s,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Main Source,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
Second Layer,
Man Eating Sloth,
Fatback Band,
Magazine,
Idris Muhammad,
The Stooges,
Crime,
David Bowie,
The Star Department,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ice-T,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.