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 Iran and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 marimba 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Massinfluence record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Rites of Spring,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tres Demented,
Ash Ra Tempel,
X-101,
T. Rex,
The Victims,
Fatback Band,
Fear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Neil Young,
Wire,
Slave,
the Slits,
Scientists,
Gichy Dan,
Duran Duran,
Roxette,
Frankie Knuckles,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Smog,
Wings,
Sällskapet,
The Real Kids,
Gong,
Letta Mbulu,
Y Pants,
The Sound,
Saccharine Trust,
Nirvana,
Scrapy,
Cecil Taylor,
Cameo,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Scott Walker,
Grauzone,
The Moody Blues,
Accadde A,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
June Days,
Outsiders,
Eric Copeland,
AZ,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Easy Going,
Pantytec,
Arab on Radar,
Second Layer,
Young Marble Giants,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minny Pops,
Eurythmics,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boredoms,
Rekid,
Swans,
The Invisible,
Nico, Nico, Nico, Nico.
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.