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 Bulgaria and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Juan Atkins to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Cybotron. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
Aswad,
the Bar-Kays,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Scion,
The Standells,
The Tremeloes,
Cheater Slicks,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Raincoats,
Aural Exciters,
Archie Shepp,
Crime,
Sparks,
Massinfluence,
Fad Gadget,
The J.B.'s,
K-Klass,
Andrew Hill,
In Retrospect,
Zero Boys,
The Invisible,
Faust,
Boz Scaggs,
Negative Approach,
ABBA,
Sonny Sharrock,
Prince Buster,
Motorama,
The Toasters,
David McCallum,
Slave,
Ultra Naté,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
Monks,
Curtis Mayfield,
L. Decosne,
The American Breed,
Ronnie Foster,
Los Fastidios,
Yellowson,
The Fortunes,
The Gap Band,
Joyce Sims,
The Doors,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Human League,
Pussy Galore,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Prunes,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Carl Craig,
Erykah Badu,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scientists,
Gang Gang Dance,
Fluxion,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.