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 Haiti and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Eve St. Jones to the dance 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Move record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
The Star Department,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Tremeloes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Germs,
Maurizio,
La Düsseldorf,
Depeche Mode,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pylon,
Warsaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Main Source,
Los Fastidios,
Joyce Sims,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Rotary Connection,
Joe Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Pretty Things,
Pantaleimon,
Graham Central Station,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Can,
Banda Bassotti,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Half Japanese,
X-102,
Brand Nubian,
Marmalade,
Audionom,
Gastr Del Sol,
Amazonics,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Agent Orange,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Offenders,
Con Funk Shun,
Au Pairs,
Khruangbin,
Flipper,
Slave,
The Durutti Column,
Lucky Dragons,
Hardrive,
The Beau Brummels,
The Count Five,
Jesper Dahlback,
Black Sheep,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
The Modern Lovers,
Johnny Osbourne,
Marvin Gaye,
Procol Harum,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.