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 Georgia and from Beijing.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 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 Lindisfarne to the funk 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Eric Dolphy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Sarah Menescal,
Sexual Harrassment,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Halsall,
The Toasters,
Hot Snakes,
Saccharine Trust,
MC5,
Bootsy Collins,
JFA,
The Moleskins,
Index,
Wire,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kayak,
Albert Ayler,
Scientists,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
The Modern Lovers,
D'Angelo,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Theoretical Girls,
Smog,
The Human League,
Sugar Minott,
Iggy Pop,
The Golliwogs,
Oblivians,
Public Enemy,
LL Cool J,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jimmy McGriff,
Adolescents,
kango's stein massive,
Anakelly,
Gastr Del Sol,
ABBA,
Amon Düül,
The J.B.'s,
Sixth Finger,
L. Decosne,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tropical Tobacco,
T. Rex,
Godley & Creme,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Brand Nubian,
Vladislav Delay,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Brothers Johnson,
Circle Jerks,
Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music, Roxy Music.
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.