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 Cuba and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bad Manners to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Eli Mardock. All the underground hits.
All The Zeros tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lungfish 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 marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Pole,
Sam Rivers,
Sugar Minott,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Hood,
Wally Richardson,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Velvet Underground,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Young Rascals,
Shoche,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Nick Fraelich,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Wake,
Circle Jerks,
Man Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
A Certain Ratio,
Lindisfarne,
The Pop Group,
E-Dancer,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Jeru the Damaja,
Q and Not U,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Mark Hollis,
Eddi Front,
Metal Thangz,
The Black Dice,
Rhythm & Sound,
Camberwell Now,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stockholm Monsters,
Yusef Lateef,
Isaac Hayes,
Severed Heads,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Lyres,
In Retrospect,
Tears for Fears,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soul Sonic Force,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Lalann,
Camouflage,
The Cure,
F. McDonald,
John Lydon,
The Busters,
Fela Kuti,
Q65,
Ronan,
Unrelated Segments,
Gang Green,
The Offenders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.