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 Botswana and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro 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 Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel to the funk 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
The Saints,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Reagan Youth,
The American Breed,
The Gories,
Marshall Jefferson,
Das Ding,
Easy Going,
Absolute Body Control,
Model 500,
John Lydon,
Au Pairs,
Robert Görl,
Severed Heads,
Yusef Lateef,
Kerri Chandler,
ABBA,
Don Cherry,
Fela Kuti,
Godley & Creme,
Mr. Review,
Fat Boys,
Ossler,
Jerry Gold Smith,
New Order,
Suburban Knight,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
John Holt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Minny Pops,
Letta Mbulu,
Fatback Band,
Piero Umiliani,
The Gladiators,
Rotary Connection,
Country Teasers,
Lower 48,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Rufus Thomas,
Dual Sessions,
Eden Ahbez,
Underground Resistance,
Lindisfarne,
Niagra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mars,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Magazine,
Roxy Music,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Moebius,
The Human League,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Toasters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
OOIOO,
Terry Callier,
The Selecter,
Grey Daturas,
Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster, Prince Buster.
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.