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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lou Reed 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Alison Limerick. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Raincoats 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The United States of America record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minutemen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Monolake,
The Cure,
Whodini,
Ice-T,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Quando Quango,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Barrington Levy,
Cal Tjader,
Spoonie Gee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Grauzone,
Ronnie Foster,
Skarface,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Warsaw,
L. Decosne,
Kaleidoscope,
Slave,
Curtis Mayfield,
Aural Exciters,
Subhumans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pussy Galore,
Procol Harum,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gang Starr,
Ohio Players,
Anakelly,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Young Marble Giants,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Invisible,
The Offenders,
Albert Ayler,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Faust,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Peter & Gordon,
The Seeds,
Rapeman,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Sound,
Unwound,
ABC,
Gastr Del Sol,
Main Source,
Qualms,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
Joe Finger,
Byron Stingily,
Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One, Funky Four + One.
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.