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 Cape Verde and from Manila.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Duran Duran to the electroclash 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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quadrant record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerri Chandler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Delta 5,
Tommy Roe,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Soul II Soul,
Skaos,
Crooked Eye,
Mars,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smoke,
Loose Ends,
T.S.O.L.,
The Fugs,
Ludus,
Joy Division,
The Pop Group,
Black Moon,
Bizarre Inc.,
Porter Ricks,
Matthew Halsall,
Los Fastidios,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slits,
Malaria!,
Talk Talk,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
Reagan Youth,
Andrew Hill,
Joey Negro,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Soul Sonic Force,
Scan 7,
The Smiths,
Man Parrish,
Laurel Aitken,
Brothers Johnson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sam Rivers,
David McCallum,
Michelle Simonal,
Spoonie Gee,
Duran Duran,
Robert Wyatt,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Q65,
Erykah Badu,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül II,
Josef K,
Janne Schatter,
Trumans Water,
Crispian St. Peters,
David Bowie,
Blancmange,
Fatback Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.