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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Portland.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cosmic Jokers to the disco 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chrome,
Joe Finger,
Gang of Four,
Man Parrish,
Ralphi Rosario,
Smog,
Ohio Players,
MC5,
Eve St. Jones,
Al Stewart,
Guru Guru,
The Real Kids,
Cluster,
Traffic Nightmare,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gang Gang Dance,
Susan Cadogan,
The Smiths,
Harpers Bizarre,
Motorama,
Mandrill,
Half Japanese,
Wings,
Scott Walker,
Minor Threat,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
T. Rex,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Modern Lovers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Funkadelic,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Sound Behaviour,
Radio Birdman,
Warsaw,
Lebanon Hanover,
Skaos,
The Young Rascals,
Lalann,
Jerry's Kids,
Eddi Front,
Tubeway Army,
Eli Mardock,
Technova,
The Count Five,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ronnie Foster,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Blues Magoos,
The Slackers,
Wasted Youth,
The Cowsills,
Skarface,
B.T. Express,
Schoolly D,
Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff, Jimmy McGriff.
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.