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 Moldova and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gang Gang Dance to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fatback Band. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantaleimon 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lindisfarne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q and Not U,
Ronnie Foster,
Sarah Menescal,
Byron Stingily,
Barclay James Harvest,
Outsiders,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Glambeats Corp.,
Thee Headcoats,
Max Romeo,
The Five Americans,
Gang Starr,
Kurtis Blow,
K-Klass,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Tom Boy,
Arthur Verocai,
Cecil Taylor,
Bob Dylan,
Sam Rivers,
Howard Jones,
Yaz,
Gang Green,
The Leaves,
the Soft Cell,
Shoche,
Maurizio,
Franke,
Goldenarms,
Urselle,
Nirvana,
Jacques Brel,
Cybotron,
the Bar-Kays,
Wally Richardson,
Cymande,
The Barracudas,
LL Cool J,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rakim,
Marmalade,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pretty Things,
Boogie Down Productions,
the Sonics,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Almond,
Marine Girls,
June of 44,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Monks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Saints,
10cc,
Eric Dolphy,
Animal Collective,
Patti Smith,
Crime,
Second Layer,
Kenny Larkin,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
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.