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 Namibia and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Alison Limerick 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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sight & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
KRS-One,
Black Moon,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ituana,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pharoah Sanders,
Youth Brigade,
Johnny Clarke,
Roger Hodgson,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Duran Duran,
T. Rex,
Connie Case,
The Star Department,
Excepter,
D'Angelo,
Intrusion,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hasil Adkins,
Angry Samoans,
Gerry Rafferty,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
10cc,
Ultravox,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blossom Toes,
Bob Dylan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Althea and Donna,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ken Boothe,
Big Daddy Kane,
Cameo,
Brothers Johnson,
Camouflage,
Smog,
L. Decosne,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Bananas,
Andrew Hill,
Morten Harket,
The Birthday Party,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Minny Pops,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Wolf Eyes,
Surgeon,
Cecil Taylor,
Funkadelic,
Porter Ricks,
The Associates,
Grauzone,
Roxy Music,
Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew, Vaughan Mason & Crew.
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.