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 South Africa and from Calgary.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
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 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Toni Rubio to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mr. Review. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
the Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Zero Boys,
Gong,
Little Man,
Ultimate Spinach,
kango's stein massive,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ken Boothe,
Talk Talk,
The Slits,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Minutemen,
Howard Jones,
Neu!,
T.S.O.L.,
The Trojans,
Roxette,
Au Pairs,
Danielle Patucci,
Buzzcocks,
Deepchord,
Glenn Branca,
The Mojo Men,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Liliput,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Oneida,
Robert Görl,
Groovy Waters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Connie Case,
Kaleidoscope,
Ice-T,
Lightning Bolt,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacob Miller,
Nico,
Reuben Wilson,
Lindisfarne,
Second Layer,
E-Dancer,
FM Einheit,
Ohio Players,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sound,
Loose Ends,
Spandau Ballet,
The Black Dice,
Royal Trux,
Marcia Griffiths,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Camberwell Now,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.