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 Cape Verde and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Donald Fagen 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 Tears for Fears to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 CMW. All the underground hits.
All Lucky Dragons tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Technova record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jacob Miller,
The Beau Brummels,
The Angels of Light,
Intrusion,
Reagan Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Sparks,
Sight & Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Echospace,
Electric Prunes,
Funkadelic,
Idris Muhammad,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Con Funk Shun,
H. Thieme,
Robert Hood,
Technova,
Michelle Simonal,
Minnie Riperton,
The Stooges,
Niagra,
June Days,
Max Romeo,
Joyce Sims,
Goldenarms,
The Last Poets,
Frankie Knuckles,
Nils Olav,
World's Most,
Clear Light,
Basic Channel,
Supertramp,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boredoms,
Skriet,
Magazine,
Ronan,
Ludus,
K-Klass,
The Mummies,
Severed Heads,
Big Daddy Kane,
Andrew Hill,
Suicide,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sandy B,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angry Samoans,
The Toasters,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ponytail,
Livin' Joy,
Monolake,
Judy Mowatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roger Hodgson,
Todd Terry,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.