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 Luxembourg and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Trojans to the rap 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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Human League,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Erasure,
E-Dancer,
Roxette,
Boz Scaggs,
Cybotron,
The Dead C,
L. Decosne,
Popol Vuh,
Spoonie Gee,
a-ha,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minutemen,
Arab on Radar,
Yaz,
Section 25,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dorothy Ashby,
Essential Logic,
PIL,
Babytalk,
Rhythm & Sound,
Infiniti,
Spandau Ballet,
Pantytec,
Das Ding,
The Evens,
Nick Fraelich,
Tres Demented,
Junior Murvin,
Crime,
Man Eating Sloth,
Whodini,
Matthew Bourne,
Make Up,
Outsiders,
Anthony Braxton,
Donald Byrd,
Black Bananas,
Minnie Riperton,
Underground Resistance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Urselle,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Lydon,
Delta 5,
Aloha Tigers,
Sam Rivers,
Pulsallama,
Radio Birdman,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Fall,
Quadrant,
Neil Young,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.