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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 marimba 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 Larry & the Blue Notes to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All The Raincoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
a-ha,
ABC,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anakelly,
Mandrill,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Young Marble Giants,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ten City,
Saccharine Trust,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gil Scott Heron,
Spoonie Gee,
Marvin Gaye,
Soul II Soul,
L. Decosne,
Prince Buster,
Harpers Bizarre,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Circle Jerks,
Derrick May,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amazonics,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Malaria!,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Monks,
Scott Walker,
Urselle,
The Fall,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Five Americans,
Wally Richardson,
The Victims,
Fluxion,
Andrew Hill,
The United States of America,
Quando Quango,
Intrusion,
Main Source,
Flamin' Groovies,
Marc Almond,
Heaven 17,
the Germs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Ultimate Spinach,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bluetip,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Joe Smooth,
Donald Byrd,
Negative Approach,
The Moody Blues,
Y Pants,
Graham Central Station,
Das Ding,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.