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 Brunei and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Gun Club to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Icehouse,
The Last Poets,
Jacques Brel,
The Busters,
These Immortal Souls,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Doobie Brothers,
The American Breed,
Junior Murvin,
The Grass Roots,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Agent Orange,
Bluetip,
Mantronix,
Mad Mike,
Bill Near,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
China Crisis,
Matthew Halsall,
The Angels of Light,
Joey Negro,
the Slits,
Tropical Tobacco,
Minny Pops,
New Order,
Stereo Dub,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Negative Approach,
Sugar Minott,
Ken Boothe,
Spoonie Gee,
Don Cherry,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
Lower 48,
The Pretty Things,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nils Olav,
Cybotron,
Funkadelic,
Danielle Patucci,
Warsaw,
Sonic Youth,
Maleditus Sound,
Zero Boys,
The Young Rascals,
Bronski Beat,
Ponytail,
New Age Steppers,
Shuggie Otis,
Intrusion,
Simply Red,
D'Angelo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ronan,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.