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 Swaziland and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 Woodstock and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Kool Moe Dee to the funk 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 Sister Nancy. All the underground hits.
All Albert Ayler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Faraquet,
Shuggie Otis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Byrd,
Nik Kershaw,
Jesper Dahlback,
World's Most,
Sister Nancy,
The Gap Band,
The J.B.'s,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang of Four,
Ohio Players,
Magazine,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Outsiders,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Clarke,
Scrapy,
Peter & Gordon,
Rufus Thomas,
Animal Collective,
Wally Richardson,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Leaves,
Pussy Galore,
Con Funk Shun,
Colin Newman,
Gang Starr,
Charles Mingus,
ABBA,
Gregory Isaacs,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Parry Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Tubeway Army,
F. McDonald,
Camouflage,
Khruangbin,
Pantaleimon,
The Cowsills,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Los Fastidios,
The Gories,
The Mummies,
Delta 5,
Essential Logic,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Victims,
New York Dolls,
Kerri Chandler,
Brick,
D'Angelo,
The Star Department,
Eurythmics,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Subhumans,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.