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 Dominica and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Cosmic Jokers to the funk 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All X-101 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
the Bar-Kays,
Hasil Adkins,
The Sound,
Gang Green,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rakim,
Pet Shop Boys,
Masters at Work,
Subhumans,
Marcia Griffiths,
Roy Ayers,
Dave Gahan,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Young Marble Giants,
Minnie Riperton,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flash Fearless,
CMW,
Sällskapet,
K-Klass,
Urselle,
Graham Central Station,
Guru Guru,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Christie,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fugazi,
Ten City,
Lyres,
Surgeon,
The Fortunes,
Don Cherry,
Alison Limerick,
Los Fastidios,
Throbbing Gristle,
James White and The Blacks,
Spandau Ballet,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Saints,
The Fire Engines,
Derrick Morgan,
Khruangbin,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti,
the Germs,
The Gories,
La Düsseldorf,
Dual Sessions,
Pylon,
Harry Pussy,
Bronski Beat,
Bob Dylan,
kango's stein massive,
Negative Approach,
The Count Five,
Slick Rick,
Roger Hodgson,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.