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 Macedonia and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Severed Heads to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Guru Guru. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sister Nancy,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Shoche,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
A Certain Ratio,
Cymande,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Sight & Sound,
Kenny Larkin,
Ken Boothe,
Cameo,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Don Cherry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Bobby Womack,
The Selecter,
Amon Düül,
Ludus,
OOIOO,
T.S.O.L.,
Althea and Donna,
The Fire Engines,
Charles Mingus,
Second Layer,
Scott Walker,
Nick Fraelich,
Morten Harket,
Howard Jones,
Harry Pussy,
Kas Product,
ABC,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hot Snakes,
Albert Ayler,
Basic Channel,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pere Ubu,
Steve Hackett,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Johnny Clarke,
Dead Boys,
Visage,
Isaac Hayes,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young,
John Foxx,
Amon Düül II,
Crash Course in Science,
Bob Dylan,
Joensuu 1685,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Todd Terry,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
the Association,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Grey Daturas,
Q65,
Alphaville,
The Moody Blues,
Joey Negro,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover, Lebanon Hanover.
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.