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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All Yusef Lateef tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arthur Verocai,
Cymande,
Tubeway Army,
Maleditus Sound,
Dual Sessions,
Bobby Sherman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nils Olav,
The Monochrome Set,
Rites of Spring,
Excepter,
Livin' Joy,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
CMW,
Shuggie Otis,
The Pretty Things,
Barrington Levy,
Sugar Minott,
Hardrive,
Ultimate Spinach,
Minutemen,
Anakelly,
Niagra,
PIL,
Slick Rick,
Thee Headcoats,
Black Sheep,
Fad Gadget,
Monolake,
Icehouse,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Gong,
Porter Ricks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Glenn Branca,
Anthony Braxton,
The Alarm Clocks,
Underground Resistance,
Popol Vuh,
Bad Manners,
Oblivians,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roy Ayers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David McCallum,
Lebanon Hanover,
Franke,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
Symarip,
Black Bananas,
The Martian,
Rekid,
In Retrospect,
48th St. Collective,
Nation of Ulysses,
Tropical Tobacco,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.