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 Oman and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 guitar 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 Henry Cow to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Alice Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Cowsills,
Lucky Dragons,
Glambeats Corp.,
Bush Tetras,
The Real Kids,
The Gap Band,
Laurel Aitken,
John Lydon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Connie Case,
Lakeside,
The Happenings,
Aswad,
Ronnie Foster,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Masters at Work,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül,
Kool Moe Dee,
Trumans Water,
Arab on Radar,
The Black Dice,
Dead Boys,
June of 44,
A Certain Ratio,
Lightning Bolt,
Gregory Isaacs,
Qualms,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kaleidoscope,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Doobie Brothers,
Suicide,
Harry Pussy,
Johnny Clarke,
Spoonie Gee,
MC5,
FM Einheit,
The Count Five,
This Heat,
Bobby Womack,
Davy DMX,
Guru Guru,
Kenny Larkin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Charles Mingus,
Sexual Harrassment,
Shoche,
Stiv Bators,
Chrome,
Ultra Naté,
Maurizio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Spandau Ballet,
The Knickerbockers,
Soul Sonic Force,
Magazine,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.