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 Russia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Letta Mbulu to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Moon,
Ultravox,
Tropical Tobacco,
Harpers Bizarre,
Black Bananas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Basic Channel,
The Red Krayola,
U.S. Maple,
Lalann,
Rufus Thomas,
Erasure,
The Pretty Things,
Archie Shepp,
Ralphi Rosario,
FM Einheit,
EPMD,
Country Teasers,
Loose Ends,
Von Mondo,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Fatback Band,
Roxy Music,
Bauhaus,
Bluetip,
Bush Tetras,
Soul II Soul,
Wings,
Infiniti,
Underground Resistance,
Lightning Bolt,
Big Daddy Kane,
B.T. Express,
The Kinks,
Shoche,
Thompson Twins,
The Residents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wire,
The Black Dice,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Happenings,
Subhumans,
Altered Images,
Bob Dylan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Raincoats,
Symarip,
Sandy B,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Angels of Light,
Reagan Youth,
The Birthday Party,
Flamin' Groovies,
the Germs,
Marvin Gaye,
Peter and Kerry,
Gregory Isaacs,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hashim,
Grauzone,
Boredoms,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.