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 Niger and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Grass Roots to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scientists 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Schoolly D,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Model 500,
The Dead C,
Easy Going,
Quadrant,
Funky Four + One,
Dead Boys,
Big Daddy Kane,
Technova,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gregory Isaacs,
EPMD,
LL Cool J,
Ken Boothe,
Letta Mbulu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers,
The Busters,
Rod Modell,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Monks,
T. Rex,
ABBA,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dirtbombs,
Reagan Youth,
The Blues Magoos,
Camberwell Now,
Organ,
Frankie Knuckles,
Drexciya,
B.T. Express,
Pharoah Sanders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oneida,
Radiohead,
Q and Not U,
Ultra Naté,
Qualms,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barclay James Harvest,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Tomorrow,
The Divine Comedy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
FM Einheit,
E-Dancer,
The Trojans,
Black Bananas,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
The Monochrome Set,
Scrapy,
U.S. Maple,
Donny Hathaway,
The Birthday Party,
Minnie Riperton,
Sister Nancy,
Danielle Patucci,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.