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 Algeria and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Accra.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 The Doobie Brothers to the crunk 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pussy Galore record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Masters at Work,
Scion,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ronan,
Suburban Knight,
These Immortal Souls,
E-Dancer,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Barracudas,
Man Parrish,
Marmalade,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Motorama,
Wally Richardson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Glambeats Corp.,
Mandrill,
Brick,
The Fortunes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gang Starr,
Archie Shepp,
Colin Newman,
The Remains,
Eve St. Jones,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cluster,
The Count Five,
Glenn Branca,
MDC,
Sugar Minott,
David Axelrod,
AZ,
The Residents,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
UT,
The Cowsills,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Swans,
Cecil Taylor,
Subhumans,
The Black Dice,
B.T. Express,
John Lydon,
Pussy Galore,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jandek,
Buzzcocks,
Stereo Dub,
Echospace,
The Young Rascals,
Roy Ayers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Don Cherry,
Carl Craig,
Stetsasonic,
Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan, Derrick Morgan.
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.