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 Portugal and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 sitar 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 Byron Stingily 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jerry's Kids,
The Doobie Brothers,
Arcadia,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rakim,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ronnie Foster,
Eli Mardock,
Eric Dolphy,
Eric Copeland,
Charles Mingus,
Black Flag,
Kenny Larkin,
The Slits,
CMW,
Porter Ricks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
David Bowie,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Alton Ellis,
Brick,
Lou Reed,
Faraquet,
Theoretical Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Blake Baxter,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
Laurel Aitken,
Moby Grape,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cure,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
The Wake,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grauzone,
Crooked Eye,
The Misunderstood,
Marine Girls,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Red Krayola,
Hardrive,
Niagra,
Godley & Creme,
Andrew Hill,
Amon Düül,
The Divine Comedy,
World's Most,
Bad Manners,
The Sonics,
Alison Limerick,
Minnie Riperton,
Skaos,
John Foxx,
H. Thieme,
Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Black Sheep.
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.