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 Nigeria and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 güiro 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 Brothers Johnson to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Skaos 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Liliput,
Dead Boys,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Can,
Spandau Ballet,
Eden Ahbez,
Rosa Yemen,
Aloha Tigers,
Faraquet,
Joe Smooth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül,
The Mummies,
The Searchers,
the Swans,
K-Klass,
Loose Ends,
Harry Pussy,
Surgeon,
Mr. Review,
Ronnie Foster,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Black Dice,
Mars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Zapp,
Piero Umiliani,
Robert Hood,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Rod Modell,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cowsills,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cheater Slicks,
Lyres,
Gil Scott Heron,
Wasted Youth,
New Age Steppers,
Nico,
Scratch Acid,
The Human League,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Thee Headcoats,
Outsiders,
Easy Going,
The Gun Club,
The Modern Lovers,
Barry Ungar,
The Raincoats,
The Stooges,
T.S.O.L.,
OOIOO,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.