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 Switzerland and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Fela Kuti to the techno 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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Glenn Branca tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Al Stewart,
Maleditus Sound,
UT,
Jerry's Kids,
Faust,
Television Personalities,
This Heat,
Vainqueur,
Prince Buster,
L. Decosne,
June of 44,
Hoover,
Quantec,
Agent Orange,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
Curtis Mayfield,
Terry Callier,
The Electric Prunes,
Half Japanese,
Fatback Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
ABC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Con Funk Shun,
Deadbeat,
Bizarre Inc.,
Organ,
cv313,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Alarm Clocks,
Audionom,
The Cure,
Technova,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Kinks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Traffic Nightmare,
Model 500,
New Age Steppers,
the Swans,
Black Sheep,
Althea and Donna,
Derrick May,
The Slackers,
Mission of Burma,
The Toasters,
Theoretical Girls,
Derrick Morgan,
Massinfluence,
Loose Ends,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Parry Music,
The Fortunes,
Supertramp,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.