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 Tunisia and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin 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 Terry Callier to the jazz 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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Gabor Szabo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nik Kershaw,
Adolescents,
Aaron Thompson,
Q and Not U,
Ronan,
Stereo Dub,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Fire Engines,
Black Moon,
Flipper,
The Vogues,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doobie Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
Mr. Review,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Wolf Eyes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Brick,
Roxy Music,
T. Rex,
Bobby Byrd,
The Last Poets,
Can,
Black Pus,
Marc Almond,
The Trojans,
Lower 48,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fugs,
The Monks,
Model 500,
The Index,
Sight & Sound,
Spoonie Gee,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fat Boys,
Harmonia,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Warsaw,
Bronski Beat,
New Age Steppers,
Public Image Ltd.,
CMW,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Erasure,
Lakeside,
Bad Manners,
Robert Görl,
Black Flag,
New York Dolls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Agitation Free,
The Neon Judgement,
Pole,
cv313,
A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio, A Certain Ratio.
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.