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 Bahrain and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Joe Smooth to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kerri Chandler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb 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 Dave Clark Five,
The Slits,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
H. Thieme,
The Motions,
Nirvana,
Graham Central Station,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Rites of Spring,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Shoche,
Alice Coltrane,
Andrew Hill,
Prince Buster,
The Buckinghams,
The Moody Blues,
Q and Not U,
Harmonia,
Babytalk,
The Invisible,
Yellowson,
Wings,
Roxy Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Gichy Dan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Erykah Badu,
Mission of Burma,
Rapeman,
The Real Kids,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eric Dolphy,
Pierre Henry,
Flamin' Groovies,
Letta Mbulu,
Cameo,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
Scientists,
Unrelated Segments,
Dorothy Ashby,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Smiths,
June of 44,
Urselle,
Altered Images,
The Names,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Albert Ayler,
Ludus,
Scan 7,
Skriet,
Parry Music,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Kinks,
the Human League,
The Offenders,
Minny Pops,
Sparks,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rakim,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.