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 Zambia and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deadbeat to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Angels of Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Minnie Riperton,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Christie,
David Axelrod,
Judy Mowatt,
Glenn Branca,
James White and The Blacks,
Stetsasonic,
Joe Finger,
B.T. Express,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Slackers,
Organ,
Royal Trux,
Charles Mingus,
Connie Case,
Throbbing Gristle,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lindisfarne,
New Age Steppers,
The Young Rascals,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lightning Bolt,
Rosa Yemen,
Ken Boothe,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Brass Construction,
Warsaw,
Crime,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Five Americans,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Slave,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Bar-Kays,
Talk Talk,
Sällskapet,
ABBA,
Cameo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Outsiders,
Patti Smith,
Blancmange,
Jawbox,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Desert Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aswad,
Todd Rundgren,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eve St. Jones,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Standells,
Cluster,
John Holt,
Robert Görl,
Lucky Dragons,
Underground Resistance,
The Martian,
The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths, The Smiths.
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.