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 Turkmenistan and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jeff Lynne to the jazz 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
Agent Orange,
Marc Almond,
Camouflage,
Sun Ra,
The Blackbyrds,
cv313,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Jacques Brel,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Coltrane,
Harpers Bizarre,
X-Ray Spex,
Robert Hood,
The Martian,
Bad Manners,
Blake Baxter,
Judy Mowatt,
Man Parrish,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gil Scott Heron,
Man Eating Sloth,
Dark Day,
Accadde A,
Little Man,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sight & Sound,
Circle Jerks,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Parry Music,
Michelle Simonal,
Bronski Beat,
Q65,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Dorothy Ashby,
Simply Red,
Wasted Youth,
Steve Hackett,
Eurythmics,
The United States of America,
Pantaleimon,
The Red Krayola,
Lungfish,
Trumans Water,
The Count Five,
Pere Ubu,
Hashim,
The Misunderstood,
Isaac Hayes,
the Association,
Howard Jones,
FM Einheit,
Sound Behaviour,
Barbara Tucker,
Kenny Larkin,
Young Marble Giants,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Zapp,
The Fall, The Fall, The Fall, The Fall.
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.