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 Korea North and from Mumbai.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 oboe 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 Sam Rivers to the jazz 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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Masters at Work record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Sparks,
Quadrant,
Judy Mowatt,
Ultra Naté,
The Shadows of Knight,
Hoover,
World's Most,
A Certain Ratio,
Suicide,
UT,
Arab on Radar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Tim Buckley,
Patti Smith,
Ponytail,
48th St. Collective,
The Blackbyrds,
Los Fastidios,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Josef K,
Iggy Pop,
Quantec,
The Neon Judgement,
Babytalk,
Loose Ends,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bauhaus,
The Gun Club,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Moleskins,
The Offenders,
the Association,
The Martian,
Subhumans,
Warsaw,
Brothers Johnson,
Intrusion,
Magazine,
Nation of Ulysses,
K-Klass,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Move,
Sandy B,
H. Thieme,
Freddie Wadling,
Banda Bassotti,
Quando Quango,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rod Modell,
Delta 5,
Scott Walker,
The Sonics,
Gang of Four,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Jacob Miller,
Vladislav Delay,
Underground Resistance,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.