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 Seychelles and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet 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 Cymande to the grunge 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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Clear Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantytec,
Chrome,
Max Romeo,
Andrew Hill,
Nico,
Minutemen,
Delta 5,
the Soft Cell,
Masters at Work,
Loose Ends,
The United States of America,
10cc,
Prince Buster,
The Fugs,
Pantaleimon,
New Age Steppers,
Alice Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
Scrapy,
Sound Behaviour,
Peter and Kerry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Q65,
The Moleskins,
K-Klass,
Gong,
Newcleus,
The Gladiators,
Lower 48,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Crime,
Young Marble Giants,
Rites of Spring,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
D'Angelo,
Maurizio,
Minnie Riperton,
Gabor Szabo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Adolescents,
Ultimate Spinach,
Alton Ellis,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skriet,
Boz Scaggs,
The Red Krayola,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Agitation Free,
Marine Girls,
John Lydon,
Aaron Thompson,
Little Man,
Piero Umiliani,
Yusef Lateef,
Wolf Eyes,
JFA,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eric Dolphy,
The Durutti Column,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.