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 Kiribati and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the punk 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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
Joe Finger,
Buzzcocks,
Jacques Brel,
Mission of Burma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Procol Harum,
Tim Buckley,
Sister Nancy,
Bobby Womack,
Todd Terry,
Sarah Menescal,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Soulsonic Force,
Howard Jones,
Monks,
Lou Christie,
Kaleidoscope,
John Foxx,
Negative Approach,
the Human League,
The Knickerbockers,
Pantaleimon,
Rufus Thomas,
The Angels of Light,
Dorothy Ashby,
Agitation Free,
Kurtis Blow,
Cal Tjader,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines,
Cymande,
Intrusion,
June of 44,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Clarke,
Maurizio,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Brand Nubian,
Bobby Byrd,
The Index,
Stereo Dub,
Gong,
Blancmange,
Whodini,
Y Pants,
Zapp,
R.M.O.,
Lindisfarne,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gories,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Adolescents,
MDC,
Royal Trux,
Stetsasonic,
The Five Americans,
Excepter,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.