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 Bangladesh and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lalo Schifrin to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Moby Grape 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Anthony Braxton,
OOIOO,
Reuben Wilson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Trojans,
Idris Muhammad,
Gong,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
Television Personalities,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Bang On A Can,
KRS-One,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Smoke,
Brick,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Theoretical Girls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
the Bar-Kays,
Grandmaster Flash,
Slick Rick,
Spandau Ballet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Simply Red,
The Real Kids,
Peter & Gordon,
The Angels of Light,
Mad Mike,
Dead Boys,
Nik Kershaw,
The Smiths,
The Star Department,
The Litter,
Pierre Henry,
Pussy Galore,
Pharoah Sanders,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood,
Aswad,
cv313,
R.M.O.,
Inner City,
JFA,
June Days,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Circle Jerks,
Technova,
Swell Maps,
Boz Scaggs,
Todd Terry,
The Toasters,
Excepter,
10cc,
The Martian,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.