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 Hungary and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Bologna.
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 snare 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 The Skatalites to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Sex Pistols. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joensuu 1685 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Amazonics,
Model 500,
Colin Newman,
Moss Icon,
Lalann,
Pere Ubu,
Half Japanese,
Ronan,
World's Most,
Roger Hodgson,
Quando Quango,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Connie Case,
kango's stein massive,
The Fugs,
X-102,
Bobby Sherman,
The Residents,
The Doors,
The Last Poets,
the Swans,
Masters at Work,
The Seeds,
Y Pants,
La Düsseldorf,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mars,
Robert Wyatt,
The Real Kids,
Camberwell Now,
FM Einheit,
Danielle Patucci,
Scrapy,
Stiv Bators,
Arab on Radar,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Blues Magoos,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Moon,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Inner City,
Man Parrish,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delon & Dalcan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Vogues,
The Mojo Men,
Harmonia,
Wings,
Donald Byrd,
Quantec,
Leonard Cohen,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crash Course in Science,
Ken Boothe,
Rod Modell,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.