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 Kyrgyzstan and from Halifax.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Liliput to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Accadde A. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Knickerbockers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harpers Bizarre,
Index,
Anakelly,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dawn Penn,
JFA,
Mr. Review,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Trumans Water,
Gregory Isaacs,
LL Cool J,
The United States of America,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
Royal Trux,
Make Up,
Little Man,
Quantec,
Shuggie Otis,
Danielle Patucci,
Drive Like Jehu,
Al Stewart,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Camberwell Now,
Laurel Aitken,
Bob Dylan,
Ronan,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Nik Kershaw,
Suicide,
The Invisible,
Au Pairs,
Kurtis Blow,
Flash Fearless,
Wasted Youth,
The Gories,
Second Layer,
Yellowson,
The Leaves,
Stereo Dub,
Freddie Wadling,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pop Group,
Pussy Galore,
the Bar-Kays,
Vladislav Delay,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Grandmaster Flash,
Howard Jones,
Blossom Toes,
Andrew Hill,
Yusef Lateef,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.