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 Spain and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare 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 Rekid to the grime 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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats 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?
AZ,
Dark Day,
Eric B and Rakim,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Toni Rubio,
Chris Corsano,
Aswad,
Rekid,
Metal Thangz,
John Holt,
The Residents,
Cluster,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Gang Starr,
Severed Heads,
Roger Hodgson,
Unrelated Segments,
Sparks,
The Wake,
Iggy Pop,
Sandy B,
The Fuzztones,
Clear Light,
R.M.O.,
Al Stewart,
Unwound,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Vainqueur,
Fela Kuti,
Crispian St. Peters,
a-ha,
John Cale,
The Vogues,
Lou Christie,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Hill,
Chris & Cosey,
The Index,
Pagans,
The Selecter,
8 Eyed Spy,
One Last Wish,
The Five Americans,
Peter & Gordon,
Porter Ricks,
Wings,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bizarre Inc.,
Nick Fraelich,
ABBA,
Rapeman,
Bob Dylan,
Gang of Four,
Malaria!,
The Fortunes,
Con Funk Shun,
Marine Girls,
Piero Umiliani,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.