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 Tuvalu and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 Paris and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grey Daturas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yaz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quadrant,
DJ Style,
Porter Ricks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Excepter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yellowson,
Roger Hodgson,
DNA,
Model 500,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Bowie,
Index,
Bluetip,
Max Romeo,
Junior Murvin,
The Angels of Light,
Sun City Girls,
Black Flag,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Slits,
Gichy Dan,
Fatback Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Organ,
Mars,
A Certain Ratio,
The Happenings,
the Normal,
Lungfish,
The Walker Brothers,
Janne Schatter,
Warren Ellis,
Basic Channel,
Rites of Spring,
Crime,
The Smoke,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Kinks,
Essential Logic,
Tommy Roe,
Oneida,
Sarah Menescal,
The Motions,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Joensuu 1685,
Prince Buster,
Kool Moe Dee,
Anthony Braxton,
Japan,
Connie Case,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Inner City,
The Music Machine,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.