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 Burundi and from Paris.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 The Monochrome Set to the jazz 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 Freddie Wadling. All the underground hits.
All Carl Craig tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna 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?
Eddi Front,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
Jawbox,
Tim Buckley,
Heaven 17,
CMW,
Interpol,
Oneida,
Cluster,
A Certain Ratio,
Brothers Johnson,
Blossom Toes,
Vainqueur,
Black Bananas,
Black Pus,
Organ,
Deadbeat,
Fad Gadget,
Audionom,
Reagan Youth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
AZ,
Technova,
Alton Ellis,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Black Sheep,
The Slackers,
The Golliwogs,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
ABBA,
Scientists,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bush Tetras,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Flag,
Camberwell Now,
Malaria!,
Newcleus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scrapy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sandy B,
Khruangbin,
June of 44,
Joey Negro,
Fort Wilson Riot,
New Order,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sight & Sound,
Adolescents,
Guru Guru,
Minutemen,
Prince Buster,
Blancmange,
Pagans,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.