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 Belgium and from Madrid.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
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 snare 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Davy DMX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Audionom,
Qualms,
Gil Scott Heron,
Duran Duran,
Marvin Gaye,
Intrusion,
Vladislav Delay,
The Fire Engines,
Buzzcocks,
Mission of Burma,
Crooked Eye,
Frankie Knuckles,
Suicide,
Yazoo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arthur Verocai,
The Busters,
James White and The Blacks,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neu!,
Zero Boys,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Tremeloes,
The Count Five,
Scientists,
Trumans Water,
Ornette Coleman,
Section 25,
Grandmaster Flash,
AZ,
Nils Olav,
Pagans,
Wasted Youth,
Tommy Roe,
Deepchord,
Pussy Galore,
Mo-Dettes,
Terry Callier,
Fatback Band,
Marc Almond,
The Beau Brummels,
The Monochrome Set,
Idris Muhammad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lee Hazlewood,
Aaron Thompson,
Erykah Badu,
Nation of Ulysses,
Icehouse,
Crash Course in Science,
ABC,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Little Man,
The Offenders,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Young Marble Giants,
The Litter,
EPMD,
L. Decosne,
Gang Green,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.