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 Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Man Eating Sloth to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Christie 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Connie Case,
Fear,
Dead Boys,
The Smiths,
Flamin' Groovies,
David Bowie,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gun Club,
Traffic Nightmare,
E-Dancer,
Scan 7,
Chris & Cosey,
The United States of America,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Curtis Mayfield,
the Germs,
The Real Kids,
Lakeside,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radio Birdman,
Erasure,
Lyres,
Pet Shop Boys,
Qualms,
the Association,
Marvin Gaye,
Ohio Players,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Moon,
R.M.O.,
AZ,
Jacob Miller,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Magma,
Neu!,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Fluxion,
Thompson Twins,
Skaos,
Thee Headcoats,
Tommy Roe,
Brothers Johnson,
Amazonics,
Franke,
Vainqueur,
Tears for Fears,
Urselle,
Nico,
Warren Ellis,
The Remains,
Oblivians,
Popol Vuh,
Sällskapet,
Ponytail,
Aaron Thompson,
Excepter,
Japan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
Babytalk,
Wings,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.