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 Burkina and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 guitar 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 The Wake to the jazz 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
The Beau Brummels,
Charles Mingus,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Massinfluence,
The Move,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Visage,
Bad Manners,
The Zeros,
Joy Division,
Laurel Aitken,
Maleditus Sound,
The Leaves,
Schoolly D,
T. Rex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
JFA,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Crooked Eye,
Josef K,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Althea and Donna,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Suicide,
Vladislav Delay,
Young Marble Giants,
Jacques Brel,
The Slits,
Oneida,
Severed Heads,
The Blues Magoos,
Joe Smooth,
Desert Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Grey Daturas,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Livin' Joy,
The Cowsills,
Khruangbin,
Goldenarms,
Main Source,
Don Cherry,
June of 44,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gang Starr,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiopuhelimet,
Saccharine Trust,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Franke,
Fat Boys,
The Raincoats,
Mr. Review,
Glambeats Corp.,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.