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 Jordan and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 oboe 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 Pharoah Sanders to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Ralphi Rosario tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Modern Lovers,
The Black Dice,
Theoretical Girls,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Soft Cell,
Jacob Miller,
Smog,
Deepchord,
Index,
The Martian,
Unrelated Segments,
Tom Boy,
Albert Ayler,
Mo-Dettes,
The Moleskins,
Spandau Ballet,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Camberwell Now,
The Invisible,
the Sonics,
Arab on Radar,
Don Cherry,
Sparks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
kango's stein massive,
Ohio Players,
The Standells,
B.T. Express,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultra Naté,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Alton Ellis,
Faust,
The Mummies,
Marine Girls,
Morten Harket,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Five Americans,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minnie Riperton,
Maleditus Sound,
Johnny Clarke,
Vainqueur,
E-Dancer,
10cc,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jimmy McGriff,
48th St. Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Mojo Men,
Scott Walker,
UT,
the Fania All-Stars,
Charles Mingus,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.