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 Marshall Islands and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 güiro 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 Brothers Johnson to the grunge 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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All MDC tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gian Franco Pienzio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maleditus Sound,
Black Pus,
Peter and Kerry,
MDC,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Dark Day,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Coltrane,
New Order,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Qualms,
Chris & Cosey,
James White and The Blacks,
Sugar Minott,
Faraquet,
Ultravox,
Skarface,
Dual Sessions,
The Velvet Underground,
the Soft Cell,
R.M.O.,
Scientists,
Eve St. Jones,
Urselle,
Gregory Isaacs,
the Germs,
Barry Ungar,
Unrelated Segments,
U.S. Maple,
The Remains,
Rekid,
Sun Ra,
a-ha,
Depeche Mode,
Eli Mardock,
Erasure,
The Vogues,
Moss Icon,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
X-101,
Bill Near,
Pharoah Sanders,
FM Einheit,
Wasted Youth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Aloha Tigers,
Royal Trux,
In Retrospect,
F. McDonald,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agitation Free,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Whodini,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bootsy Collins,
John Holt,
Rosa Yemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Boogie Down Productions,
Ten City,
The Mojo Men,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.