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 Papua New Guinea and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 David Bowie 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 James White and The Blacks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy Collins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Standells,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Derrick May,
Minny Pops,
Country Joe & The Fish,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Joy Division,
Kenny Larkin,
Crooked Eye,
John Foxx,
Roxy Music,
Buzzcocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cal Tjader,
Boogie Down Productions,
U.S. Maple,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sight & Sound,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Section 25,
This Heat,
Chris Corsano,
The Last Poets,
Sarah Menescal,
Cybotron,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Skatalites,
Howard Jones,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
Sugar Minott,
The Saints,
Magazine,
Index,
MC5,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Red Krayola,
Tubeway Army,
Eli Mardock,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Amon Düül,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monolake,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fluxion,
Audionom,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wings,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Trumans Water,
Massinfluence,
Main Source,
cv313,
Sun Ra,
The Raincoats,
Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic, Stetsasonic.
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.