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 Portugal and from Paris.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and New York.
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 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 Donald Fagen 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 Funky Four + One to the rock 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Lou Reed,
Barrington Levy,
Can,
Tim Buckley,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sex Pistols,
Newcleus,
Marc Almond,
Eli Mardock,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Main Source,
John Holt,
Traffic Nightmare,
Slave,
Visage,
Tres Demented,
Niagra,
Andrew Hill,
ABBA,
Chris & Cosey,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Judy Mowatt,
The Red Krayola,
Monks,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Vainqueur,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Con Funk Shun,
Minor Threat,
Jacques Brel,
Funkadelic,
Television,
Roxy Music,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
K-Klass,
Wings,
Throbbing Gristle,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roxette,
Tommy Roe,
Darondo,
Index,
Mo-Dettes,
T.S.O.L.,
Reagan Youth,
The Skatalites,
Grey Daturas,
Skriet,
Smog,
Gong,
Slick Rick,
Cybotron,
Arthur Verocai,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bronski Beat,
Absolute Body Control,
Fluxion,
Intrusion,
Agitation Free,
Brothers Johnson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Glambeats Corp.,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.