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 Ethiopia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 Soft Cell to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Piero Umiliani,
Newcleus,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lower 48,
Minnie Riperton,
Los Fastidios,
Harpers Bizarre,
Fugazi,
AZ,
Depeche Mode,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Mad Mike,
The Monochrome Set,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Danielle Patucci,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
Suburban Knight,
Interpol,
The Modern Lovers,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Henry Cow,
The Martian,
Camouflage,
Ituana,
The Raincoats,
The Dirtbombs,
Pagans,
Aloha Tigers,
The Fall,
Amazonics,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Remains,
Kas Product,
Arab on Radar,
Harry Pussy,
Sugar Minott,
Skriet,
Ten City,
Zero Boys,
Gichy Dan,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Cale,
The Blues Magoos,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Funky Four + One,
Theoretical Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Buzzcocks,
Erasure,
Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach, Ultimate Spinach.
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.