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 Venezuela and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All De La Soul & Jungle Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
Kas Product,
Intrusion,
The Remains,
The Wake,
Godley & Creme,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sandy B,
Gichy Dan,
The Human League,
Mark Hollis,
CMW,
T. Rex,
Danielle Patucci,
The Fuzztones,
Niagra,
Wolf Eyes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Loose Ends,
Albert Ayler,
Deadbeat,
The Dead C,
Harry Pussy,
Pole,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
Bill Wells,
Frankie Knuckles,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Fugs,
The Gories,
Quantec,
Excepter,
The Move,
Spandau Ballet,
Rites of Spring,
Nirvana,
Byron Stingily,
Joe Smooth,
Josef K,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gregory Isaacs,
Monks,
Yusef Lateef,
Sun City Girls,
Big Daddy Kane,
Con Funk Shun,
Alton Ellis,
Ohio Players,
Grey Daturas,
Hoover,
Swell Maps,
Ponytail,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Scratch Acid,
Nas,
David Bowie,
Television Personalities,
KRS-One,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
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.