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 Maldives and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Eric Copeland to the disco 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
The Grass Roots,
Index,
Goldenarms,
Altered Images,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
T. Rex,
Nik Kershaw,
The Residents,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Swans,
Bush Tetras,
Bad Manners,
Negative Approach,
Arcadia,
Supertramp,
L. Decosne,
June Days,
One Last Wish,
Andrew Hill,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pantaleimon,
Lyres,
The Flesh Eaters,
Crispy Ambulance,
the Human League,
Wings,
Joe Finger,
Neil Young,
Isaac Hayes,
Amazonics,
Cheater Slicks,
MC5,
Y Pants,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris & Cosey,
Ronnie Foster,
U.S. Maple,
Cybotron,
John Lydon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Gang Green,
ABBA,
Pole,
Be Bop Deluxe,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Matthew Bourne,
A Certain Ratio,
Sam Rivers,
Kenny Larkin,
Alphaville,
Clear Light,
Slave,
Heaven 17,
Ponytail,
This Heat,
Jawbox,
Essential Logic,
Yazoo,
Tomorrow,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.