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 Kazakhstan and from Edmonton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Drexciya to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Martian,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Inner City,
the Normal,
Robert Hood,
The Skatalites,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Maurizio,
OOIOO,
Urselle,
Gang Green,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultravox,
Roxette,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Minor Threat,
Eli Mardock,
Con Funk Shun,
A Certain Ratio,
David McCallum,
The Slits,
Clear Light,
Sound Behaviour,
The Toasters,
Barbara Tucker,
Massinfluence,
Tres Demented,
The Selecter,
Crooked Eye,
Spoonie Gee,
Yusef Lateef,
Eden Ahbez,
Barrington Levy,
Fad Gadget,
Bluetip,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pulsallama,
The Gun Club,
UT,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Heaven 17,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
H. Thieme,
The Saints,
B.T. Express,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Yaz,
The Blues Magoos,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Harmonia,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Almond,
Slave,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fortunes,
The Offenders,
June of 44,
Eric Dolphy,
Japan,
The Monochrome Set,
Lucky Dragons,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.