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 Paraguay and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 The Cowsills to the funk 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 Red Lorry Yellow Lorry. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Pet Shop Boys,
Gerry Rafferty,
ABBA,
Terrestrial Tones,
Echospace,
Tres Demented,
Los Fastidios,
Scan 7,
Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Motorama,
Ash Ra Tempel,
the Germs,
The Real Kids,
Henry Cow,
Chris Corsano,
Ice-T,
The Sonics,
Ohio Players,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Andrew Hill,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Graham Central Station,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mantronix,
Soulsonic Force,
Gang of Four,
Kerrie Biddell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Thompson Twins,
Radio Birdman,
Yazoo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Leaves,
The Gap Band,
Joyce Sims,
The Five Americans,
Index,
The Modern Lovers,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boredoms,
Cybotron,
Ossler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
Stereo Dub,
the Human League,
The Electric Prunes,
The New Christs,
Brick,
Curtis Mayfield,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sugar Minott,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lou Christie,
The Neon Judgement,
Donny Hathaway,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Isaac Hayes,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes, Mo-Dettes.
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.