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 Djibouti and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Funkadelic to the dance 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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters 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 rap 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Agitation Free,
Television,
The Blues Magoos,
Judy Mowatt,
DNA,
Arab on Radar,
Section 25,
In Retrospect,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
R.M.O.,
Heaven 17,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gang Starr,
Lyres,
Stiv Bators,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
Sun Ra,
Connie Case,
Suicide,
Malaria!,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lalo Schifrin,
Joy Division,
The Monks,
Minutemen,
The Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
A Certain Ratio,
Lower 48,
Smog,
Liliput,
Bob Dylan,
Q65,
Fugazi,
Au Pairs,
Sonic Youth,
The Smiths,
James White and The Blacks,
Interpol,
Letta Mbulu,
D'Angelo,
Severed Heads,
Livin' Joy,
The Blackbyrds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rufus Thomas,
Bush Tetras,
Deepchord,
Minnie Riperton,
Terry Callier,
The Slackers,
Charles Mingus,
The Raincoats,
Excepter,
Second Layer,
Lucky Dragons,
The Birthday Party,
The Vogues,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.