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 Norway and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Grandmaster Flash to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerrie Biddell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Amon Düül,
Skaos,
Average White Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
the Bar-Kays,
Idris Muhammad,
EPMD,
Section 25,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gang Starr,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Babytalk,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric Copeland,
China Crisis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Evens,
The Black Dice,
48th St. Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
Black Moon,
One Last Wish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Quantec,
X-Ray Spex,
Marmalade,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sexual Harrassment,
Warren Ellis,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eddi Front,
The Techniques,
Stetsasonic,
Visage,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Slackers,
Massinfluence,
Henry Cow,
Mark Hollis,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Arab on Radar,
The Gories,
Flipper,
Moebius,
The Cramps,
DJ Style,
The American Breed,
Gang Gang Dance,
Panda Bear,
Thompson Twins,
10cc,
the Soft Cell,
Excepter,
The Slits,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.