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 Algeria and from Toronto.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roy Ayers Ubiquity to the electroclash 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Von Mondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
The Martian,
Mantronix,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Electric Prunes,
Theoretical Girls,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
New York Dolls,
Judy Mowatt,
Lou Christie,
The Cramps,
Josef K,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Crime,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Unwound,
Amazonics,
Bob Dylan,
Sly & The Family Stone,
AZ,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Parrish,
Scratch Acid,
Moby Grape,
Arthur Verocai,
Spoonie Gee,
Morten Harket,
Unrelated Segments,
Kaleidoscope,
Todd Rundgren,
Black Pus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Rod Modell,
The Cowsills,
The Dead C,
Massinfluence,
Harry Pussy,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
L. Decosne,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Bizarre Inc.,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
OOIOO,
Procol Harum,
Toni Rubio,
Davy DMX,
Symarip,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Gun Club,
Minutemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Motorama,
Masters at Work,
Brothers Johnson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sound Behaviour,
Quando Quango,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.