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 Italy and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Donald Fagen 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 Freddie Wadling to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Connie Case 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Aural Exciters,
Bang On A Can,
Surgeon,
John Holt,
Popol Vuh,
The Names,
CMW,
Curtis Mayfield,
Don Cherry,
Ornette Coleman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Althea and Donna,
Magma,
48th St. Collective,
Marc Almond,
Make Up,
Albert Ayler,
Boredoms,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Martian,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scott Walker,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Association,
The Gladiators,
Letta Mbulu,
The Victims,
The Angels of Light,
Bobby Womack,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Visage,
Rod Modell,
Scion,
Barry Ungar,
Eddi Front,
Drive Like Jehu,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dave Clark Five,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Todd Rundgren,
Oblivians,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Minutemen,
Skriet,
H. Thieme,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sällskapet,
Radiopuhelimet,
X-Ray Spex,
Janne Schatter,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Tremeloes,
The Durutti Column,
Negative Approach,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Average White Band,
Donald Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Thee Headcoats,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.