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 Fiji and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Edmonton.
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 organ 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 The Divine Comedy to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
H. Thieme,
Sixth Finger,
The Cure,
New York Dolls,
Godley & Creme,
Goldenarms,
Man Parrish,
Tommy Roe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rufus Thomas,
Colin Newman,
This Heat,
Thompson Twins,
Gong,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Saints,
Buzzcocks,
Wolf Eyes,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Subhumans,
Make Up,
The Red Krayola,
Black Moon,
Eddi Front,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thee Headcoats,
Arthur Verocai,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Au Pairs,
Symarip,
Sparks,
Fugazi,
Tears for Fears,
Pere Ubu,
Curtis Mayfield,
Silicon Teens,
Rod Modell,
Yaz,
Pierre Henry,
Mo-Dettes,
Soulsonic Force,
Lou Reed,
Schoolly D,
Henry Cow,
Wire,
Severed Heads,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ituana,
Monks,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Slits,
Unwound,
The Dead C,
The Barracudas,
Brothers Johnson,
Gang of Four,
Marine Girls,
The Smiths,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.