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 Tuvalu and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro 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 The Jesus and Mary Chain to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants 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?
Heaven 17,
Barry Ungar,
Jesper Dahlback,
Harry Pussy,
June of 44,
Television,
Hot Snakes,
Dorothy Ashby,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David Axelrod,
Franke,
Liliput,
Pharoah Sanders,
Stereo Dub,
Sonny Sharrock,
Brothers Johnson,
Darondo,
Black Moon,
The Mojo Men,
Connie Case,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Marc Almond,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Schoolly D,
Qualms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mark Hollis,
The Selecter,
Massinfluence,
Jandek,
D'Angelo,
Sex Pistols,
Graham Central Station,
Lou Reed,
Black Flag,
Juan Atkins,
Parry Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
F. McDonald,
Joyce Sims,
The Invisible,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ludus,
The Fall,
Zero Boys,
Lakeside,
Banda Bassotti,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Morten Harket,
Piero Umiliani,
The Durutti Column,
This Heat,
Silicon Teens,
Nirvana,
Gregory Isaacs,
Roxy Music,
Cymande,
Delon & Dalcan,
B.T. Express,
Gang of Four,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.