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 Haiti and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Scan 7,
The Smoke,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Cymande,
Kenny Larkin,
Outsiders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Subhumans,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
Altered Images,
Scientists,
The Last Poets,
Black Moon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Happenings,
Lungfish,
John Lydon,
Camouflage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Stiv Bators,
Drexciya,
Camberwell Now,
T. Rex,
Rufus Thomas,
The Knickerbockers,
Howard Jones,
Boz Scaggs,
The Names,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Q and Not U,
Gil Scott Heron,
Iggy Pop,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
Dual Sessions,
Roxy Music,
Lower 48,
Henry Cow,
Crispian St. Peters,
Infiniti,
Essential Logic,
Isaac Hayes,
Popol Vuh,
The Blackbyrds,
Robert Wyatt,
Ultravox,
Wire,
New York Dolls,
Banda Bassotti,
the Germs,
Sandy B,
the Sonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw, Nik Kershaw.
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.