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 Guinea-Bissau and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Sister Nancy to the funk 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 Dark Day. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
The J.B.'s,
The Slackers,
Barbara Tucker,
Easy Going,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Halsall,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Happenings,
Icehouse,
Von Mondo,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Moebius,
The Gun Club,
Fear,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Camouflage,
Yellowson,
The Busters,
The Stooges,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Smog,
Barrington Levy,
Model 500,
Procol Harum,
The Victims,
Drexciya,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minny Pops,
The Wake,
Average White Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Womack,
Liliput,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Saccharine Trust,
The Names,
Juan Atkins,
Circle Jerks,
Pharoah Sanders,
Radiopuhelimet,
John Cale,
The Five Americans,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Letta Mbulu,
Eden Ahbez,
Bill Near,
China Crisis,
Sonny Sharrock,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Harmonia,
Sam Rivers,
The Red Krayola,
Jeff Lynne,
Bill Wells,
Roger Hodgson,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.