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 Argentina and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Average White Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Henry Cow. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family 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 a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
U.S. Maple,
Fela Kuti,
Andrew Hill,
Franke,
John Coltrane,
Brick,
Cybotron,
Ralphi Rosario,
Television Personalities,
Joyce Sims,
Black Moon,
Jacques Brel,
Yusef Lateef,
Curtis Mayfield,
JFA,
Liliput,
Neu!,
Au Pairs,
Blake Baxter,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
Judy Mowatt,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aaron Thompson,
Morten Harket,
Depeche Mode,
The Mojo Men,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
This Heat,
Pussy Galore,
Black Flag,
Bill Near,
The Offenders,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Godley & Creme,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Girls At Our Best!,
MDC,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Smoke,
Make Up,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Bananas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mummies,
The Gap Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tommy Roe,
The Wake,
Second Layer,
Dawn Penn,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Cluster,
Lungfish,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.