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 Gabon and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 clarinet 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 The Grass Roots to the dance 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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index 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 a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Wire,
Cecil Taylor,
Hardrive,
Joe Smooth,
Los Fastidios,
Lou Reed,
Soul Sonic Force,
Schoolly D,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Doors,
H. Thieme,
The Walker Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Y Pants,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Michelle Simonal,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Colin Newman,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Count Five,
Sight & Sound,
John Cale,
Minny Pops,
CMW,
Sister Nancy,
Underground Resistance,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Lower 48,
The United States of America,
Vladislav Delay,
48th St. Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Howard Jones,
The Dead C,
DNA,
The Velvet Underground,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Associates,
Darondo,
Todd Terry,
Ice-T,
The Remains,
The Moleskins,
Gil Scott Heron,
Public Enemy,
The Mojo Men,
The Music Machine,
James White and The Blacks,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Shoche,
Kenny Larkin,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Eurythmics,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Scion,
Eve St. Jones,
Letta Mbulu,
Make Up,
Isaac Hayes,
The Five Americans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Yaz,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.