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 Suriname and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Glambeats Corp. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Bush Tetras,
Ice-T,
Harpers Bizarre,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magazine,
Buzzcocks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scratch Acid,
Sällskapet,
The Vogues,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Angels of Light,
Eden Ahbez,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gap Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Mission of Burma,
Electric Prunes,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Byrd,
Cymande,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Zeros,
Prince Buster,
The Dirtbombs,
Thompson Twins,
Sparks,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Joy Division,
Carl Craig,
Ken Boothe,
The Young Rascals,
Matthew Bourne,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Peter & Gordon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Peter and Kerry,
Nas,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Panda Bear,
Quadrant,
Bobby Sherman,
Bauhaus,
The Fall,
The Walker Brothers,
La Düsseldorf,
The Pretty Things,
Mary Jane Girls,
Harry Pussy,
The Skatalites,
Soulsonic Force,
These Immortal Souls,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.