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 Macedonia and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Letta Mbulu to the disco 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Traffic Nightmare tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bluetip,
Derrick Morgan,
The Skatalites,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
UT,
Wally Richardson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Doobie Brothers,
In Retrospect,
Mandrill,
The Index,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Infiniti,
Lalann,
Magazine,
Agent Orange,
Liliput,
The Martian,
Byron Stingily,
Country Joe & The Fish,
DJ Style,
June Days,
The Slackers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Five Americans,
Bill Wells,
Barbara Tucker,
ABC,
Jandek,
Kayak,
Nation of Ulysses,
Fatback Band,
Fluxion,
Negative Approach,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
KRS-One,
Andrew Hill,
Chris Corsano,
the Human League,
The American Breed,
Todd Terry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Delta 5,
Howard Jones,
Lucky Dragons,
10cc,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Gichy Dan,
Masters at Work,
Ludus,
Suicide,
Quadrant,
Trumans Water,
Second Layer,
Subhumans,
Hoover,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Man Eating Sloth,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.