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 Angola and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 theremin 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All Royal Trux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Halsall,
Scrapy,
Camouflage,
E-Dancer,
the Bar-Kays,
Lucky Dragons,
Liliput,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
Bobby Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Yaz,
Outsiders,
Dennis Brown,
Babytalk,
Grey Daturas,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Human League,
Susan Cadogan,
Neil Young,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gap Band,
Arthur Verocai,
X-101,
Section 25,
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Style,
The Wake,
Mr. Review,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amazonics,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
The Raincoats,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Stetsasonic,
Hoover,
Alphaville,
Marvin Gaye,
the Soft Cell,
Cal Tjader,
Inner City,
Massinfluence,
Q and Not U,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bluetip,
Pharoah Sanders,
Roxy Music,
Rufus Thomas,
Average White Band,
Terry Callier,
Colin Newman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye,
World's Most,
Alison Limerick,
Quadrant,
Morten Harket,
Reagan Youth,
New Order,
Rosa Yemen,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.