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 Botswana and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Spandau Ballet to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Neu!,
Dawn Penn,
Albert Ayler,
Mad Mike,
Monolake,
Fugazi,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mark Hollis,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Niagra,
Youth Brigade,
Bush Tetras,
Reuben Wilson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Glenn Branca,
Essential Logic,
Grey Daturas,
The Velvet Underground,
DJ Style,
X-Ray Spex,
Pussy Galore,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Funkadelic,
Anthony Braxton,
Section 25,
The Fire Engines,
Brass Construction,
Isaac Hayes,
Roxy Music,
Barrington Levy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gil Scott Heron,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Walker Brothers,
Vainqueur,
Spoonie Gee,
The Pop Group,
Suburban Knight,
James White and The Blacks,
Lindisfarne,
Patti Smith,
Alison Limerick,
Joe Smooth,
Kenny Larkin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wire,
Severed Heads,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Bourne,
Lower 48,
The Cramps,
Clear Light,
Morten Harket,
Subhumans,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.