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 Czech Republic and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Rakim,
Arab on Radar,
Marshall Jefferson,
Vainqueur,
Swell Maps,
Rotary Connection,
Roger Hodgson,
Bronski Beat,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Marmalade,
Robert Hood,
Black Flag,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare,
Thee Headcoats,
Don Cherry,
Television,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Q65,
Lungfish,
Bush Tetras,
Ponytail,
B.T. Express,
Ronnie Foster,
The Fugs,
Smog,
Gerry Rafferty,
Ludus,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mark Hollis,
Stiv Bators,
Janne Schatter,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Index,
Derrick Morgan,
The Five Americans,
Josef K,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Black Bananas,
Tommy Roe,
Davy DMX,
Dead Boys,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
Television Personalities,
The Electric Prunes,
Echospace,
The Cramps,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
Gregory Isaacs,
Black Sheep,
CMW,
The Fuzztones,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.