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 Guatemala and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 güiro 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 Crispian St. Peters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
The Last Poets,
Matthew Halsall,
Essential Logic,
Fat Boys,
Second Layer,
Main Source,
Charles Mingus,
Junior Murvin,
Fear,
Deepchord,
Max Romeo,
Archie Shepp,
Panda Bear,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sonics,
Ponytail,
Minor Threat,
Reagan Youth,
Harmonia,
Pole,
Black Bananas,
Spandau Ballet,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lower 48,
Severed Heads,
Rod Modell,
UT,
Godley & Creme,
Cheater Slicks,
The Angels of Light,
The Trojans,
Donald Byrd,
Al Stewart,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Smog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeff Lynne,
The Kinks,
Pussy Galore,
Hashim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Arab on Radar,
Ice-T,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Flipper,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
Mr. Review,
Robert Wyatt,
JFA,
Shuggie Otis,
Bang On A Can,
Black Sheep,
The Stooges,
Robert Görl,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Public Enemy,
Flash Fearless,
New Age Steppers,
Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks, Circle Jerks.
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.