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 Mexico and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
David Axelrod,
Young Marble Giants,
Rapeman,
The Moody Blues,
New York Dolls,
Malaria!,
World's Most,
Amon Düül,
Supertramp,
Oblivians,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blancmange,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Saints,
Toni Rubio,
Model 500,
Cybotron,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Judy Mowatt,
Mad Mike,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Victims,
Isaac Hayes,
Alton Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Joensuu 1685,
Vainqueur,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Anthony Braxton,
Lindisfarne,
Cymande,
Fear,
Von Mondo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Janne Schatter,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bill Near,
Nas,
Brothers Johnson,
The Gap Band,
Matthew Bourne,
EPMD,
Robert Görl,
Arthur Verocai,
Hasil Adkins,
Lower 48,
Glenn Branca,
The Monochrome Set,
The Count Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Idris Muhammad,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ossler,
Archie Shepp,
The Index,
Nick Fraelich,
Index,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.