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 Equatorial Guinea and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Smog. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gun Club record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
The Cramps,
Sister Nancy,
T. Rex,
Big Daddy Kane,
Rod Modell,
EPMD,
The Monks,
Lower 48,
The Pop Group,
Bad Manners,
MDC,
Rufus Thomas,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott Heron,
Erasure,
The Knickerbockers,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Morten Harket,
Masters at Work,
These Immortal Souls,
Los Fastidios,
Pylon,
U.S. Maple,
Kevin Saunderson,
Slick Rick,
Mars,
B.T. Express,
Nik Kershaw,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MC5,
Babytalk,
The Offenders,
Motorama,
The Litter,
Ten City,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sight & Sound,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Terry Callier,
Anthony Braxton,
Yaz,
Mandrill,
Bobby Womack,
Tropical Tobacco,
Chris Corsano,
the Normal,
Bill Wells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Michelle Simonal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Pantaleimon,
the Association,
Moss Icon,
The Tremeloes,
Ornette Coleman,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.