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 Lebanon and from Spokane.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 mellotron 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 Scion to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donald Byrd record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Style,
Scott Walker,
Country Teasers,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Golliwogs,
Leonard Cohen,
Unwound,
Soft Cell,
This Heat,
Barry Ungar,
Curtis Mayfield,
Donald Byrd,
The Barracudas,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Prunes,
Scion,
Chris Corsano,
Black Moon,
The Neon Judgement,
Crime,
Warsaw,
Eric Dolphy,
Motorama,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
Monks,
Q and Not U,
Angry Samoans,
Camberwell Now,
Hasil Adkins,
Glenn Branca,
Technova,
The Gap Band,
In Retrospect,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
CMW,
The Five Americans,
Reagan Youth,
Morten Harket,
Funkadelic,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Y Pants,
The Selecter,
Moby Grape,
Flipper,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
X-Ray Spex,
Reuben Wilson,
the Bar-Kays,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Names,
Quantec,
Iggy Pop,
Underground Resistance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Organ,
Todd Terry,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bush Tetras,
Max Romeo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Blake Baxter,
The Invisible,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.