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 Peru and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Jandek to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
Sarah Menescal,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronnie Foster,
Mantronix,
Michelle Simonal,
Talk Talk,
The Music Machine,
Lyres,
Theoretical Girls,
The Residents,
Ten City,
Drive Like Jehu,
Rod Modell,
Public Enemy,
Sister Nancy,
The Techniques,
Bush Tetras,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Angels of Light,
Brand Nubian,
The Associates,
Tropical Tobacco,
Girls At Our Best!,
Rites of Spring,
Sixth Finger,
The Human League,
the Normal,
Stetsasonic,
Lebanon Hanover,
Don Cherry,
Supertramp,
Eve St. Jones,
Q and Not U,
Deadbeat,
Joyce Sims,
Big Daddy Kane,
Whodini,
Nas,
Wasted Youth,
Yazoo,
Model 500,
The Divine Comedy,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
Sugar Minott,
John Cale,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Drexciya,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Slits,
U.S. Maple,
Crime,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pantytec,
Unrelated Segments,
Television Personalities,
DNA,
Donny Hathaway,
Hashim,
Simply Red,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.