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 Fiji and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Kool G Rap & DJ Polo to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Glenn Branca. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express 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 a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brass Construction record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marcia Griffiths,
the Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
Radiohead,
John Lydon,
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Drive Like Jehu,
Cameo,
Mars,
L. Decosne,
The Fortunes,
Theoretical Girls,
Malaria!,
Suburban Knight,
Dave Gahan,
Joe Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barrington Levy,
Wasted Youth,
Jacques Brel,
MC5,
The Names,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Alice Coltrane,
The Fall,
Skarface,
Minnie Riperton,
The Monks,
Jimmy McGriff,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ornette Coleman,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rosa Yemen,
Chrome,
Ten City,
Babytalk,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
Archie Shepp,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Skaos,
Royal Trux,
The Slackers,
Buzzcocks,
The Grass Roots,
Don Cherry,
the Bar-Kays,
Agitation Free,
Eddi Front,
The Dead C,
Lucky Dragons,
Soft Machine,
Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion, Intrusion.
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.