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 Slovakia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 synthesizer 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 These Immortal Souls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Delta 5,
OOIOO,
Eddi Front,
Minnie Riperton,
Masters at Work,
The Techniques,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wings,
L. Decosne,
Outsiders,
Index,
Section 25,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Knickerbockers,
New Age Steppers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
James White and The Blacks,
Ludus,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Happenings,
Alton Ellis,
Mo-Dettes,
Little Man,
A Certain Ratio,
Fatback Band,
Sällskapet,
Arthur Verocai,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Letta Mbulu,
Eric Copeland,
DNA,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
DJ Style,
the Association,
Swell Maps,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Echospace,
48th St. Collective,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jesper Dahlback,
Jacques Brel,
Radiopuhelimet,
Mary Jane Girls,
Boredoms,
The Misunderstood,
Lindisfarne,
AZ,
The Flesh Eaters,
ABBA,
Eden Ahbez,
The Birthday Party,
Gerry Rafferty,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Intrusion,
Mantronix,
Matthew Bourne,
The Vogues,
Panda Bear,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.