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 Tonga and from Salvador.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rap 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 Marc Almond. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cluster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Boz Scaggs,
the Human League,
Hoover,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boredoms,
T.S.O.L.,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Remains,
Severed Heads,
Danielle Patucci,
The Gories,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kaleidoscope,
Von Mondo,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rapeman,
Peter & Gordon,
Todd Terry,
Minutemen,
Roger Hodgson,
MDC,
David McCallum,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ponytail,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Monochrome Set,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Sonics,
Althea and Donna,
The Seeds,
Roy Ayers,
The Fortunes,
Shuggie Otis,
John Foxx,
Q and Not U,
EPMD,
Terrestrial Tones,
Amazonics,
China Crisis,
Gang Green,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pierre Henry,
Talk Talk,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Moss Icon,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Sheep,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Reagan Youth,
Motorama,
The Blues Magoos,
Tears for Fears,
Leonard Cohen,
The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs, The Dirtbombs.
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.