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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 organ 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 Animal Collective to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sad Lovers and Giants 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Skriet,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Masters at Work,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
Joe Smooth,
Howard Jones,
Todd Terry,
Johnny Clarke,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Blossom Toes,
The Kinks,
June of 44,
Fad Gadget,
R.M.O.,
Lou Reed,
Pylon,
Carl Craig,
Slave,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Theoretical Girls,
Pantaleimon,
Soft Machine,
Camouflage,
Eli Mardock,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
cv313,
Tres Demented,
The Cure,
Avey Tare,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cybotron,
The Buckinghams,
Deakin,
David Bowie,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jawbox,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Joey Negro,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Delta 5,
Black Flag,
The Martian,
Parry Music,
Morten Harket,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pierre Henry,
Nick Fraelich,
Das Ding,
ABBA,
Minutemen,
Malaria!,
Aural Exciters,
Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls, Mary Jane Girls.
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.