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 Uruguay and from Houston.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 The Grass Roots to the dance 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Misunderstood,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Womack,
Michelle Simonal,
The Searchers,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Last Poets,
Robert Görl,
H. Thieme,
Maurizio,
Quando Quango,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Dave Clark Five,
Chris & Cosey,
Henry Cow,
Gang of Four,
Ultimate Spinach,
Das Ding,
The Count Five,
Ultra Naté,
Aswad,
Nico,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalann,
The Birthday Party,
Animal Collective,
Yusef Lateef,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nick Fraelich,
Pylon,
Throbbing Gristle,
Scientists,
Newcleus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Black Bananas,
ABC,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fire Engines,
Basic Channel,
cv313,
Yaz,
Organ,
Surgeon,
Harmonia,
Quantec,
Hardrive,
The Slackers,
Barrington Levy,
Nation of Ulysses,
Al Stewart,
Scott Walker,
Connie Case,
Piero Umiliani,
Camouflage,
Mo-Dettes,
Rosa Yemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pierre Henry,
Ten City,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.