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 Thailand and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 World's Most to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Excepter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eddi Front,
Japan,
Al Stewart,
cv313,
Ice-T,
Youth Brigade,
Magma,
Radio Birdman,
X-101,
The Stooges,
The Kinks,
CMW,
The Last Poets,
Scan 7,
Donald Byrd,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gichy Dan,
The Standells,
Neu!,
The Divine Comedy,
Suicide,
Whodini,
The Pretty Things,
Guru Guru,
Lyres,
Silicon Teens,
The Electric Prunes,
Livin' Joy,
Scratch Acid,
Idris Muhammad,
Bootsy Collins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Rufus Thomas,
Harpers Bizarre,
Funkadelic,
8 Eyed Spy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Brick,
Davy DMX,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gerry Rafferty,
Yellowson,
Fat Boys,
Adolescents,
Fela Kuti,
James White and The Blacks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Jacob Miller,
The Zeros,
Average White Band,
Brass Construction,
the Soft Cell,
The Star Department,
Malaria!,
Make Up,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bill Near,
Cecil Taylor,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camouflage,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood, The Misunderstood.
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.