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 Dominican Republic 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sun Ra to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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 Dirtbombs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Shoche,
Girls At Our Best!,
Black Moon,
the Human League,
Man Parrish,
Brothers Johnson,
Ronan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Quantec,
Dawn Penn,
Gang Gang Dance,
Piero Umiliani,
ABBA,
Siglo XX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Slits,
John Coltrane,
Godley & Creme,
Interpol,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Goldenarms,
Unrelated Segments,
Malaria!,
Audionom,
The Star Department,
Blossom Toes,
John Foxx,
Unwound,
Pierre Henry,
Dual Sessions,
Black Flag,
Johnny Osbourne,
Desert Stars,
Technova,
Alison Limerick,
Scientists,
Guru Guru,
Jandek,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Leaves,
Todd Rundgren,
Qualms,
K-Klass,
Albert Ayler,
Cameo,
Lyres,
The Fall,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Magazine,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Offenders,
The Neon Judgement,
The Real Kids,
Blake Baxter,
Barrington Levy,
Mandrill,
Tubeway Army,
Aaron Thompson,
Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu, Pere Ubu.
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.