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 Philippines and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Cairo.
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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the snare 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 Gabor Szabo to the jazz 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All The Motions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fire Engines 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wings record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Moleskins,
Lalann,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pet Shop Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
R.M.O.,
Ultra Naté,
Grandmaster Flash,
Chrome,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mummies,
The Grass Roots,
Sight & Sound,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Smooth,
Vladislav Delay,
Gang of Four,
Audionom,
Rapeman,
The Seeds,
Silicon Teens,
Max Romeo,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aaron Thompson,
Eurythmics,
The Real Kids,
Section 25,
Avey Tare,
the Sonics,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warren Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Andrew Hill,
Tomorrow,
Tubeway Army,
Prince Buster,
Sonic Youth,
Q65,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Kerri Chandler,
Tropical Tobacco,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Fortunes,
Unwound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Mills,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
D'Angelo,
Yaz,
The Pretty Things,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Camberwell Now,
Ossler,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.