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 Argentina and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide 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 Boz Scaggs to the punk 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 Cymande. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alice Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
FM Einheit,
Colin Newman,
Black Moon,
Angry Samoans,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Residents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Althea and Donna,
Main Source,
Minnie Riperton,
Joe Finger,
Groovy Waters,
Chris & Cosey,
Section 25,
Curtis Mayfield,
Hot Snakes,
the Bar-Kays,
Boredoms,
the Swans,
Eric B and Rakim,
Leonard Cohen,
Judy Mowatt,
Vladislav Delay,
Kool Moe Dee,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sound,
Skaos,
Cluster,
Oblivians,
Aural Exciters,
Eden Ahbez,
Barclay James Harvest,
8 Eyed Spy,
Country Teasers,
The Kinks,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Anthony Braxton,
Marvin Gaye,
Circle Jerks,
Altered Images,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Q and Not U,
Yazoo,
Saccharine Trust,
James White and The Blacks,
Bronski Beat,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mojo Men,
Alphaville,
Mantronix,
The Stooges,
Roger Hodgson,
The Invisible,
The Grass Roots,
the Human League,
Nas,
Magazine,
The Doobie Brothers,
Brass Construction,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.