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 East Timor and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 arpeggiator 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 The Dead C to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Mad Mike,
Pole,
Ten City,
Arthur Verocai,
Suburban Knight,
Eurythmics,
The Standells,
The Residents,
Popol Vuh,
Fear,
The Wake,
The Leaves,
Hasil Adkins,
Radiohead,
Gil Scott Heron,
Patti Smith,
The Gun Club,
New Order,
Carl Craig,
Make Up,
Josef K,
JFA,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ohio Players,
Aswad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Funkadelic,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Newcleus,
Marc Almond,
Sugar Minott,
Kerrie Biddell,
Tomorrow,
Bang On A Can,
Faust,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brick,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
Malaria!,
Flash Fearless,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terry Callier,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nas,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fat Boys,
Alison Limerick,
The Move,
Archie Shepp,
In Retrospect,
Skriet,
Boogie Down Productions,
Radiopuhelimet,
Flipper,
Vladislav Delay,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young,
the Sonics,
Ultravox,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.