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 Lithuania and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Robert Görl to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
The Victims,
Todd Terry,
Blossom Toes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fuzztones,
New Age Steppers,
Second Layer,
The Walker Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rotary Connection,
Slick Rick,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Masters at Work,
Marshall Jefferson,
Byron Stingily,
Boz Scaggs,
The New Christs,
Shuggie Otis,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Knickerbockers,
Accadde A,
Vladislav Delay,
Gastr Del Sol,
Bauhaus,
Terry Callier,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Alice Coltrane,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
Carl Craig,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arthur Verocai,
Wings,
Bad Manners,
The Index,
Ultimate Spinach,
Mad Mike,
Angry Samoans,
Wolf Eyes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Black Pus,
Slave,
Reuben Wilson,
Jeru the Damaja,
Trumans Water,
Visage,
Sixth Finger,
Lower 48,
Wally Richardson,
The Sound,
DJ Style,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Tubeway Army,
Symarip,
Danielle Patucci,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Chrome,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Saccharine Trust,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.