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 Ecuador and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 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 Yusef Lateef to the grime 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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Aloha Tigers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sugar Minott record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Q65,
Minutemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sight & Sound,
Jandek,
The Happenings,
OOIOO,
Liliput,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Von Mondo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Brass Construction,
Johnny Osbourne,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
The Fugs,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Knickerbockers,
ABBA,
F. McDonald,
Radio Birdman,
JFA,
Anakelly,
Au Pairs,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Basic Channel,
The J.B.'s,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Trojans,
Faust,
Black Moon,
Nick Fraelich,
Absolute Body Control,
The Five Americans,
Wally Richardson,
Technova,
Nik Kershaw,
Magma,
Donny Hathaway,
The Music Machine,
Make Up,
Tubeway Army,
Los Fastidios,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Neu!,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Howard Jones,
The Fall,
Pierre Henry,
Sandy B,
Bobby Byrd,
Lower 48,
Eli Mardock,
The Searchers,
the Association,
The Stooges,
Sällskapet,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.