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 Brunei and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sisters of Mercy to the disco 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 Suicide. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Toni Rubio,
Slave,
Davy DMX,
Max Romeo,
Albert Ayler,
Lebanon Hanover,
KRS-One,
Neil Young,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
The Stooges,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Crispian St. Peters,
Yaz,
The Move,
Bill Wells,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
June Days,
Warsaw,
Ronnie Foster,
Lindisfarne,
Soulsonic Force,
Icehouse,
Maleditus Sound,
The Pop Group,
Stetsasonic,
Al Stewart,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kenny Larkin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Livin' Joy,
Silicon Teens,
Carl Craig,
Curtis Mayfield,
Audionom,
Josef K,
Visage,
Spandau Ballet,
Zero Boys,
Public Enemy,
Masters at Work,
Gichy Dan,
The Fugs,
Althea and Donna,
The Smiths,
Bang On A Can,
Yazoo,
Ralphi Rosario,
The United States of America,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Last Poets,
DJ Style,
New Age Steppers,
Sam Rivers,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.