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 Guinea and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All World's Most tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deepchord record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
Brick,
Warsaw,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
ABC,
Bad Manners,
Icehouse,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ten City,
Ossler,
Lungfish,
Absolute Body Control,
Rites of Spring,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ralphi Rosario,
Visage,
The Misunderstood,
The Music Machine,
Kas Product,
Peter & Gordon,
Marcia Griffiths,
June of 44,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Move,
the Sonics,
Mission of Burma,
Amon Düül,
Pulsallama,
The Mummies,
Gang Gang Dance,
Joyce Sims,
Yazoo,
Eddi Front,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Grass Roots,
Robert Hood,
Grey Daturas,
Alison Limerick,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Kinks,
Sister Nancy,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roger Hodgson,
Eli Mardock,
X-101,
Stereo Dub,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kerri Chandler,
The Black Dice,
LL Cool J,
Model 500,
cv313,
Spandau Ballet,
John Cale,
Cal Tjader,
Crash Course in Science,
Khruangbin,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Lou Christie,
L. Decosne,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.