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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Ultimate Spinach to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ten City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
New York Dolls,
Dead Boys,
Moby Grape,
The Fire Engines,
Barclay James Harvest,
Circle Jerks,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Lydon,
Freddie Wadling,
Rekid,
the Association,
The Flesh Eaters,
Arcadia,
Marc Almond,
Curtis Mayfield,
Zero Boys,
CMW,
Babytalk,
The Angels of Light,
Rotary Connection,
Bootsy Collins,
Idris Muhammad,
Bush Tetras,
Skaos,
Groovy Waters,
Chris Corsano,
Visage,
kango's stein massive,
The Doobie Brothers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Electric Prunes,
The Human League,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Techniques,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
Darondo,
a-ha,
Nico,
The Offenders,
Silicon Teens,
Supertramp,
Joyce Sims,
Byron Stingily,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
DJ Style,
Fear,
Roy Ayers,
The Music Machine,
Hoover,
Rites of Spring,
AZ,
Index,
Davy DMX,
Ken Boothe,
Bobby Sherman,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Last Poets,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.