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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fire Engines to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Hot Snakes. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deakin 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Main Source,
Big Daddy Kane,
Porter Ricks,
Babytalk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pussy Galore,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bang On A Can,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Womack,
DNA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Barrington Levy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kool Moe Dee,
Wasted Youth,
Bronski Beat,
Heaven 17,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
Barbara Tucker,
cv313,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Monks,
The Music Machine,
Lakeside,
Swell Maps,
Morten Harket,
The Happenings,
Q and Not U,
The Busters,
Neil Young,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Blossom Toes,
Franke,
The Divine Comedy,
Supertramp,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gap Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Marc Almond,
David Axelrod,
Sonic Youth,
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Chrome,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eddi Front,
Q65,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Urselle,
Scion,
The Human League,
Minutemen,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cybotron,
Audionom,
Skarface,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.