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 Bhutan and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Can to the grime 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Piero Umiliani tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barbara Tucker 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
The Leaves,
Nils Olav,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Fuzztones,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arthur Verocai,
Technova,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sex Pistols,
Grauzone,
Severed Heads,
Schoolly D,
Oneida,
Tom Boy,
Dawn Penn,
The Fugs,
H. Thieme,
Johnny Clarke,
Sällskapet,
Yaz,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Inner City,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lightning Bolt,
Subhumans,
Cybotron,
Leonard Cohen,
Black Pus,
Anakelly,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Q and Not U,
The Skatalites,
Mark Hollis,
Lindisfarne,
Sam Rivers,
Black Moon,
Pantaleimon,
Infiniti,
Symarip,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Zeros,
Pere Ubu,
World's Most,
The Tremeloes,
Glenn Branca,
The Trojans,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Litter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pagans,
Avey Tare,
Terry Callier,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Public Enemy,
The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds, The Mighty Diamonds.
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.