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 Montenegro and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Monks to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Brand Nubian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
The Leaves,
Ituana,
John Coltrane,
Joensuu 1685,
Faust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crash Course in Science,
Scientists,
Los Fastidios,
Massinfluence,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Remains,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Whodini,
Bobby Byrd,
The Searchers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gil Scott Heron,
Con Funk Shun,
The Zeros,
Slick Rick,
Subhumans,
Urselle,
Henry Cow,
Easy Going,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Piero Umiliani,
Flash Fearless,
Ronan,
E-Dancer,
Aswad,
The Fortunes,
The Offenders,
T.S.O.L.,
The Smoke,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
The Gun Club,
Y Pants,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Howard Jones,
Stereo Dub,
The Smiths,
New York Dolls,
Patti Smith,
Dennis Brown,
Lindisfarne,
Mr. Review,
Harmonia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Brass Construction,
Swell Maps,
Supertramp,
The Slits,
Gregory Isaacs,
Rod Modell,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.