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 Oman and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Radiohead to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Iggy Pop. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marcia Griffiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drexciya,
The Divine Comedy,
ABBA,
Hoover,
Mark Hollis,
Agitation Free,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Max Romeo,
Subhumans,
The Count Five,
Barbara Tucker,
Absolute Body Control,
Byron Stingily,
Sexual Harrassment,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
Hasil Adkins,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gories,
A Certain Ratio,
Faust,
Tres Demented,
Lalann,
Laurel Aitken,
T.S.O.L.,
Second Layer,
Basic Channel,
Graham Central Station,
Monks,
Donny Hathaway,
Hashim,
Lindisfarne,
Parry Music,
Angry Samoans,
Inner City,
Wally Richardson,
AZ,
Barry Ungar,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Selecter,
Lalo Schifrin,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Popol Vuh,
Surgeon,
Aural Exciters,
Anthony Braxton,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Sheep,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Electric Prunes,
Marc Almond,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantaleimon,
The Fugs,
Bob Dylan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Supertramp,
Peter & Gordon,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.