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 Djibouti and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Funkadelic 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Five Americans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
The Toasters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Black Pus,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Mojo Men,
Delon & Dalcan,
Fluxion,
Big Daddy Kane,
Motorama,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Lyres,
Althea and Donna,
Susan Cadogan,
Agent Orange,
Cecil Taylor,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Smooth,
the Sonics,
John Coltrane,
Grey Daturas,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Byron Stingily,
David McCallum,
Tubeway Army,
Model 500,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Adolescents,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ronnie Foster,
Gang of Four,
T. Rex,
The Mummies,
Japan,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Public Enemy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Monolake,
Eve St. Jones,
Tommy Roe,
The Sound,
Crooked Eye,
Little Man,
Alton Ellis,
The Cramps,
Con Funk Shun,
Jacques Brel,
The Music Machine,
Masters at Work,
Malaria!,
Davy DMX,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tom Boy,
Moebius,
The Gladiators,
Bluetip,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tomorrow,
ABC,
Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green, Gang Green.
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.