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 Peru and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the güiro 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 Mandrill to the funk 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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Robert Wyatt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Litter,
Sonic Youth,
The Leaves,
Saccharine Trust,
Gichy Dan,
Janne Schatter,
The Techniques,
Don Cherry,
U.S. Maple,
Morten Harket,
Ornette Coleman,
Index,
Susan Cadogan,
The Seeds,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Slave,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
Lungfish,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Doors,
The Motions,
The Black Dice,
The Last Poets,
Judy Mowatt,
The Five Americans,
Derrick Morgan,
Albert Ayler,
Maurizio,
The Moody Blues,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Curtis Mayfield,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kaleidoscope,
New Order,
Wasted Youth,
The Gories,
Liliput,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sixth Finger,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
David McCallum,
Mandrill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bush Tetras,
The Searchers,
Todd Terry,
Junior Murvin,
Aloha Tigers,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Human League,
Flipper,
Dawn Penn,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.