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 East Timor and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Eric Copeland to the disco 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crooked Eye 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
The Victims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
kango's stein massive,
Mr. Review,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Underground Resistance,
The Move,
Livin' Joy,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
Roxy Music,
The Gories,
Dark Day,
Sexual Harrassment,
Index,
MDC,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
John Lydon,
Crispy Ambulance,
Iggy Pop,
The Fall,
Deakin,
Infiniti,
Nik Kershaw,
The Cure,
Black Pus,
Shoche,
Ten City,
Spandau Ballet,
Matthew Halsall,
Amon Düül II,
Anakelly,
Crime,
Anthony Braxton,
Lalann,
Big Daddy Kane,
Dennis Brown,
Outsiders,
John Coltrane,
R.M.O.,
JFA,
Camouflage,
Stiv Bators,
Urselle,
E-Dancer,
Sugar Minott,
Cluster,
The Smoke,
The Index,
The Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
Trumans Water,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Techniques,
Joe Finger,
Joe Smooth,
Gang of Four,
Gabor Szabo,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.