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 Kiribati and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
Freddie Wadling,
Slick Rick,
Harmonia,
Lalann,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gang Starr,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Intrusion,
Ken Boothe,
Juan Atkins,
OOIOO,
Bill Wells,
The Raincoats,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Style,
Gang of Four,
Rakim,
New Age Steppers,
cv313,
Guru Guru,
Suburban Knight,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Iggy Pop,
Cecil Taylor,
Neil Young,
Silicon Teens,
Grauzone,
Gabor Szabo,
Amon Düül II,
Cameo,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
Eden Ahbez,
Skriet,
JFA,
Bobby Byrd,
Neu!,
Lindisfarne,
Accadde A,
Sandy B,
Yusef Lateef,
The Dave Clark Five,
Stiv Bators,
Minor Threat,
Black Moon,
A Certain Ratio,
FM Einheit,
Icehouse,
Mission of Burma,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ronan,
Connie Case,
Aural Exciters,
Skaos,
the Association,
Thompson Twins,
Television Personalities,
Eddi Front,
The Music Machine,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.