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 Belgium and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All Juan Atkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott Heron,
Duran Duran,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeff Lynne,
The Tremeloes,
China Crisis,
Sugar Minott,
Bang On A Can,
Bobby Sherman,
The Young Rascals,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Star Department,
Cymande,
AZ,
Absolute Body Control,
Don Cherry,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Scientists,
Electric Prunes,
Bizarre Inc.,
Negative Approach,
Bluetip,
Thee Headcoats,
Eddi Front,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gang Starr,
Letta Mbulu,
Freddie Wadling,
Byron Stingily,
Scrapy,
Avey Tare,
Crooked Eye,
Matthew Bourne,
Animal Collective,
The Kinks,
Marvin Gaye,
Janne Schatter,
Quando Quango,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
Aloha Tigers,
Qualms,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
David Bowie,
Sonny Sharrock,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Fela Kuti,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Red Krayola,
Scan 7,
Sandy B,
KRS-One,
Ultra Naté,
Neil Young,
Radiopuhelimet,
Traffic Nightmare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ludus,
Morten Harket,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.