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 Slovakia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Wake to the crunk 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Suburban Knight,
Brothers Johnson,
Todd Terry,
The Slits,
Pantaleimon,
Black Sheep,
Boredoms,
the Slits,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bill Near,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
CMW,
Pussy Galore,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bronski Beat,
Newcleus,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Unrelated Segments,
The Dave Clark Five,
Hasil Adkins,
The Smoke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Buzzcocks,
Colin Newman,
Rufus Thomas,
The Young Rascals,
Porter Ricks,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Lynne,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
The Litter,
Ken Boothe,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
the Swans,
Magazine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
T.S.O.L.,
A Certain Ratio,
June of 44,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Eric Dolphy,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Happenings,
Negative Approach,
Guru Guru,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Technova,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Smog,
The Last Poets,
Blossom Toes,
Ice-T,
the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell, the Soft Cell.
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.