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 the UAE and from Sao Paulo.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Misunderstood to the punk 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
The Moleskins,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Human League,
Moss Icon,
Alton Ellis,
Crispian St. Peters,
H. Thieme,
Danielle Patucci,
Hasil Adkins,
Cybotron,
Gang of Four,
Barry Ungar,
Silicon Teens,
The Five Americans,
Altered Images,
Y Pants,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Liliput,
Yaz,
Smog,
Eve St. Jones,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Christie,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
Heaven 17,
Ornette Coleman,
The Neon Judgement,
Flipper,
Hardrive,
Babytalk,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sandy B,
Rufus Thomas,
Matthew Halsall,
Thompson Twins,
Yellowson,
Hot Snakes,
Bobby Womack,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Man Eating Sloth,
Black Pus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Evens,
The Golliwogs,
Slave,
B.T. Express,
Matthew Bourne,
Faust,
Fad Gadget,
Adolescents,
kango's stein massive,
Malaria!,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Depeche Mode,
Idris Muhammad,
Masters at Work,
Sly & The Family Stone,
One Last Wish,
Scan 7,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.