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 Malawi and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Winnipeg.
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 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the disco 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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spandau Ballet 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Robert Wyatt,
Joey Negro,
Infiniti,
The Dead C,
Qualms,
Bill Wells,
Matthew Bourne,
Vladislav Delay,
Sun Ra,
Albert Ayler,
Smog,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Bar-Kays,
Ossler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Magazine,
The Trojans,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Gang of Four,
The Doors,
World's Most,
Little Man,
Ronnie Foster,
E-Dancer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Agent Orange,
Hasil Adkins,
Deakin,
Kayak,
Fatback Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sexual Harrassment,
Josef K,
Rakim,
Rites of Spring,
X-101,
Robert Hood,
Eve St. Jones,
ABC,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Thee Headcoats,
Nation of Ulysses,
Glambeats Corp.,
Alice Coltrane,
The Dave Clark Five,
Mantronix,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Oneida,
the Germs,
Dead Boys,
Khruangbin,
Lungfish,
Kool Moe Dee,
the Association,
Suicide,
Brass Construction,
Youth Brigade,
Bush Tetras,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.