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 Senegal and from Manila.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Con Funk Shun to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All The Cosmic Jokers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Groovy Waters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Simply Red,
Radiopuhelimet,
cv313,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Hot Snakes,
Pere Ubu,
The Electric Prunes,
The Star Department,
The Music Machine,
T.S.O.L.,
Terrestrial Tones,
L. Decosne,
Gregory Isaacs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Fela Kuti,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fortunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deakin,
Bootsy Collins,
Symarip,
Harmonia,
The United States of America,
Junior Murvin,
Delta 5,
Con Funk Shun,
The Walker Brothers,
Rotary Connection,
Ronnie Foster,
the Fania All-Stars,
Minor Threat,
Hoover,
Prince Buster,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Saints,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Rhythm & Sound,
T. Rex,
Bluetip,
E-Dancer,
R.M.O.,
The Trojans,
Kurtis Blow,
Roxette,
The Red Krayola,
Skriet,
Lou Reed,
Icehouse,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fuzztones,
U.S. Maple,
Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese, Half Japanese.
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.