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 Zambia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 chamberlin 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 Bootsy Collins to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
Arab on Radar,
The Techniques,
Suburban Knight,
The Divine Comedy,
Essential Logic,
The Happenings,
The Dead C,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pere Ubu,
Basic Channel,
Sex Pistols,
Altered Images,
Boz Scaggs,
Schoolly D,
JFA,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Bad Manners,
Amon Düül,
Urselle,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Banda Bassotti,
Lalo Schifrin,
Quadrant,
David Bowie,
Roxy Music,
K-Klass,
Underground Resistance,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lou Reed,
Johnny Clarke,
Delta 5,
Hot Snakes,
The Wake,
Lakeside,
MC5,
Ken Boothe,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultra Naté,
B.T. Express,
Intrusion,
The Modern Lovers,
The Slackers,
Rapeman,
Gang Green,
Lower 48,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Derrick May,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Blancmange,
The Fuzztones,
Jerry's Kids,
Liliput,
Desert Stars,
Iggy Pop,
The Cowsills,
Bob Dylan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.