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 Dominica and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Charles Mingus to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud. All the underground hits.
All Crime tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
Magma,
Dennis Brown,
Rites of Spring,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Alton Ellis,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Offenders,
Accadde A,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Urselle,
Livin' Joy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Derrick May,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
Faraquet,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Litter,
Massinfluence,
Scrapy,
Los Fastidios,
Pantaleimon,
Nick Fraelich,
Lungfish,
Byron Stingily,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Tears for Fears,
Silicon Teens,
Rakim,
Harry Pussy,
Lyres,
10cc,
Au Pairs,
Simply Red,
Michelle Simonal,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mission of Burma,
John Coltrane,
Excepter,
Johnny Clarke,
Josef K,
Surgeon,
the Normal,
Donny Hathaway,
PIL,
Y Pants,
Steve Hackett,
Jandek,
Monks,
Guru Guru,
Easy Going,
The Real Kids,
Minutemen,
The Skatalites,
Minor Threat,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza, Eyeless In Gaza.
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.