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 Kuwait and from Manchester.
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 Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 The Evens to the grunge 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Fania All-Stars,
Marine Girls,
Sam Rivers,
Can,
Matthew Halsall,
Urselle,
Severed Heads,
Thompson Twins,
Essential Logic,
Hardrive,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rapeman,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crooked Eye,
Neu!,
Lightning Bolt,
The Invisible,
Davy DMX,
Excepter,
Stereo Dub,
The Trojans,
Albert Ayler,
Scrapy,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pop Group,
June Days,
Los Fastidios,
Robert Wyatt,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
Cymande,
Motorama,
Radiohead,
Soul Sonic Force,
Jacques Brel,
B.T. Express,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Cramps,
Eli Mardock,
Chris Corsano,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kerri Chandler,
Delta 5,
Arcadia,
Minny Pops,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
the Association,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cecil Taylor,
Livin' Joy,
The Seeds,
Ultra Naté,
Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig, Carl Craig.
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.