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 Nauru and from Shanghai.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lightning Bolt to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Idris Muhammad. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Supertramp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Monks,
Black Pus,
Dark Day,
Kurtis Blow,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rotary Connection,
Goldenarms,
Spandau Ballet,
June Days,
Connie Case,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Donald Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dorothy Ashby,
Reuben Wilson,
Magma,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeff Mills,
K-Klass,
Jesper Dahlback,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cameo,
In Retrospect,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Blackbyrds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Alice Coltrane,
The Vogues,
Jacques Brel,
The Gories,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Loose Ends,
Gerry Rafferty,
Marmalade,
Accadde A,
the Human League,
Hoover,
Derrick May,
The Smoke,
The Remains,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Joensuu 1685,
The Selecter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Robert Hood,
Pylon,
Robert Wyatt,
Sly & The Family Stone,
48th St. Collective,
Crooked Eye,
Khruangbin,
The Real Kids,
Scott Walker,
Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX, Siglo XX.
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.