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 Ethiopia and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 808 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 Barracudas to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott Heron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sonic Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lalann record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Flag,
Jimmy McGriff,
Goldenarms,
Average White Band,
Nas,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Neu!,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tres Demented,
Terry Callier,
Todd Rundgren,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Leaves,
Bobby Womack,
PIL,
Ten City,
Reuben Wilson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dark Day,
Faust,
Matthew Halsall,
Moss Icon,
Carl Craig,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bauhaus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Heaven 17,
Eric Dolphy,
Dead Boys,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
Soul II Soul,
Harry Pussy,
Lebanon Hanover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Severed Heads,
Shoche,
Connie Case,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mojo Men,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Radio Birdman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
U.S. Maple,
Black Moon,
Jawbox,
Gregory Isaacs,
Fatback Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Invisible,
Jacques Brel,
The Last Poets,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sight & Sound,
Delta 5,
Peter and Kerry,
Blossom Toes,
Interpol,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.