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 Seychelles and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 The Vogues to the funk 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 The Human League. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun City Girls,
Tomorrow,
Shuggie Otis,
R.M.O.,
Ludus,
Carl Craig,
H. Thieme,
Wings,
Sam Rivers,
Bobby Byrd,
Rites of Spring,
The Stooges,
The Happenings,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Reagan Youth,
Mad Mike,
The Last Poets,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Swell Maps,
Jandek,
Arthur Verocai,
The Moody Blues,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monks,
UT,
Ronan,
Ultra Naté,
World's Most,
Cymande,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
MDC,
The Real Kids,
The Zeros,
Moebius,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ultravox,
Lakeside,
Gang Gang Dance,
CMW,
Davy DMX,
Quando Quango,
Crispian St. Peters,
Darondo,
Deepchord,
Gabor Szabo,
Juan Atkins,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jesper Dahlback,
Johnny Osbourne,
Laurel Aitken,
Thee Headcoats,
The Mojo Men,
PIL,
X-101,
John Lydon,
Bobby Womack,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.