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 Poland and from Lagos.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 sitar 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 The Slackers to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Ken Boothe,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jawbox,
Colin Newman,
Ice-T,
Tears for Fears,
Cheater Slicks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rotary Connection,
Funky Four + One,
Stiv Bators,
The Motions,
Fat Boys,
Janne Schatter,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythm & Sound,
Roxette,
Iggy Pop,
Anthony Braxton,
Magazine,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gregory Isaacs,
K-Klass,
H. Thieme,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Leaves,
Nick Fraelich,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Litter,
Boredoms,
the Bar-Kays,
Jeff Lynne,
Minnie Riperton,
Fluxion,
Wally Richardson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jacques Brel,
The Buckinghams,
Panda Bear,
Jimmy McGriff,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Todd Rundgren,
The Techniques,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Hood,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Bob Dylan,
D'Angelo,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crooked Eye,
Electric Light Orchestra,
U.S. Maple,
Tres Demented,
Rakim,
Aaron Thompson,
Lalann,
Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants, Sad Lovers and Giants.
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.