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 Switzerland and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Anthony Braxton to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Jimmy McGriff,
Duran Duran,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Television,
Pantytec,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Doors,
Ice-T,
Derrick May,
Model 500,
Gastr Del Sol,
Warren Ellis,
Peter and Kerry,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ornette Coleman,
Sun Ra,
Inner City,
Nico,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
F. McDonald,
Livin' Joy,
Basic Channel,
World's Most,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Arcadia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Desert Stars,
The Fugs,
Gichy Dan,
Peter & Gordon,
The Cowsills,
Reuben Wilson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sex Pistols,
Max Romeo,
Rod Modell,
The Associates,
Ultimate Spinach,
Scrapy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Junior Murvin,
The Divine Comedy,
The Dead C,
Gabor Szabo,
Glenn Branca,
Eddi Front,
Organ,
David Axelrod,
Bobby Sherman,
The Smiths,
Half Japanese,
Jesper Dahlback,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
June of 44,
Tropical Tobacco,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.