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 Mauritania and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Certain Ratio to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
D'Angelo,
The Cramps,
Brand Nubian,
EPMD,
Lou Christie,
Heaven 17,
Con Funk Shun,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Five Americans,
Mantronix,
Black Bananas,
The Buckinghams,
Trumans Water,
Monks,
Kerri Chandler,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
This Heat,
Nas,
Fugazi,
Darondo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Soul II Soul,
Angry Samoans,
Lower 48,
Saccharine Trust,
Blancmange,
Porter Ricks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Country Teasers,
John Cale,
Symarip,
Make Up,
Junior Murvin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Index,
MC5,
Q65,
A Certain Ratio,
Bobby Sherman,
Agent Orange,
Juan Atkins,
The Cowsills,
Prince Buster,
Index,
Rekid,
The Blackbyrds,
Organ,
Tears for Fears,
The Cure,
Radiopuhelimet,
E-Dancer,
The Moody Blues,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Cluster,
Mars,
Babytalk,
Eric Copeland,
Scan 7,
Gregory Isaacs,
Zero Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Whodini, Whodini, Whodini, Whodini.
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.