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 Turkmenistan and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Los Fastidios to the techno 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 Main Source. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Shuggie Otis,
The Real Kids,
MDC,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jacob Miller,
Faust,
Traffic Nightmare,
Porter Ricks,
Suburban Knight,
Nick Fraelich,
Motorama,
Underground Resistance,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Names,
The Human League,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter and Kerry,
The American Breed,
John Cale,
Clear Light,
the Soft Cell,
The Martian,
Brass Construction,
Tropical Tobacco,
Robert Wyatt,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Soul II Soul,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mandrill,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Raincoats,
The Smoke,
Reagan Youth,
Dave Gahan,
Morten Harket,
The Pretty Things,
Scion,
the Human League,
New Age Steppers,
Bush Tetras,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deakin,
Jandek,
The Blackbyrds,
Lightning Bolt,
Average White Band,
Yellowson,
Kenny Larkin,
New Order,
Fela Kuti,
Hashim,
Heaven 17,
R.M.O.,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Wake,
Warren Ellis,
Black Pus,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Vainqueur,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Lydon,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.