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 Somalia and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Busters to the crunk 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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All Kool Moe Dee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bush Tetras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Q65 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warren Ellis,
Niagra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Nik Kershaw,
Fela Kuti,
48th St. Collective,
The Kinks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Silicon Teens,
The Real Kids,
One Last Wish,
Motorama,
Can,
Idris Muhammad,
The Grass Roots,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Victims,
Curtis Mayfield,
Little Man,
Cymande,
MDC,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gories,
Funky Four + One,
Derrick May,
The United States of America,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blake Baxter,
Outsiders,
Con Funk Shun,
Amon Düül II,
Godley & Creme,
Roxette,
Barry Ungar,
Marine Girls,
Fat Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
EPMD,
Nation of Ulysses,
Carl Craig,
Electric Prunes,
Peter and Kerry,
Isaac Hayes,
Swell Maps,
Eric Dolphy,
Bootsy Collins,
Reuben Wilson,
Maleditus Sound,
Sixth Finger,
Nick Fraelich,
Lebanon Hanover,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Womack,
New York Dolls,
Agent Orange,
the Human League,
Maurizio,
The Dead C,
Steve Hackett,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.