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 Belarus and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Mexico City.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens 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 electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter and Kerry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Amon Düül,
Deepchord,
Gichy Dan,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Dirtbombs,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Janne Schatter,
Alphaville,
John Holt,
Tomorrow,
The Five Americans,
Gang of Four,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Faust,
Shoche,
Quantec,
Zapp,
X-101,
The Count Five,
Scrapy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fluxion,
Bauhaus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Searchers,
Nico,
Lyres,
Rekid,
Fela Kuti,
The Neon Judgement,
Gong,
Little Man,
L. Decosne,
Camberwell Now,
The Smoke,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
Eric Dolphy,
LL Cool J,
Angry Samoans,
The Divine Comedy,
Black Bananas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wire,
The Raincoats,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Urselle,
Tom Boy,
Minutemen,
MC5,
Procol Harum,
Swell Maps,
Andrew Hill,
The Fortunes,
The Angels of Light,
The Misunderstood,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.