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 Belize and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin 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 Gap Band to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Victims. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
Bush Tetras,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radiohead,
Aswad,
Oneida,
Althea and Donna,
Wings,
Interpol,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Real Kids,
The Moody Blues,
La Düsseldorf,
OOIOO,
Joensuu 1685,
Stiv Bators,
Bluetip,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Pus,
Scion,
Country Teasers,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Misunderstood,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cheater Slicks,
Das Ding,
Suburban Knight,
New York Dolls,
Procol Harum,
Sparks,
The Last Poets,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Juan Atkins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pere Ubu,
Scott Walker,
The Fall,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Davy DMX,
The Mojo Men,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gong,
Arab on Radar,
Matthew Bourne,
Supertramp,
Bobby Byrd,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rod Modell,
Deakin,
Eric Dolphy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pulsallama,
Ludus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Move,
MC5,
Piero Umiliani,
The Smiths,
L. Decosne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.