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 Micronesia and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Monks to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Janne Schatter 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pole record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Wake,
Scientists,
John Coltrane,
Tommy Roe,
Scrapy,
Junior Murvin,
Audionom,
Das Ding,
Jimmy McGriff,
Excepter,
Ultra Naté,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
Pulsallama,
Blake Baxter,
New York Dolls,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Bourne,
Neil Young,
Sugar Minott,
OOIOO,
Scratch Acid,
Crooked Eye,
Joensuu 1685,
Swans,
Roxy Music,
Ken Boothe,
The Sound,
Gong,
Niagra,
Pantytec,
June Days,
The Trojans,
Big Daddy Kane,
Wasted Youth,
Lyres,
Quantec,
The Leaves,
Funky Four + One,
Cheater Slicks,
Terry Callier,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Underground Resistance,
Althea and Donna,
Alice Coltrane,
Electric Prunes,
Los Fastidios,
Magma,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
Youth Brigade,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delta 5,
Gang Gang Dance,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Selecter,
MC5,
The Young Rascals,
Piero Umiliani,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.