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 United States 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Dawn Penn to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Laurel Aitken tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Simply Red,
Wally Richardson,
Shoche,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scott Walker,
Television,
Young Marble Giants,
The Count Five,
The Walker Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
Bootsy Collins,
The Black Dice,
Boogie Down Productions,
New York Dolls,
Aswad,
Sex Pistols,
Q65,
The Martian,
Alice Coltrane,
Junior Murvin,
Underground Resistance,
This Heat,
Malaria!,
Crash Course in Science,
Lou Christie,
Easy Going,
Delta 5,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Certain Ratio,
Jandek,
Heaven 17,
Scratch Acid,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Names,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bill Wells,
Essential Logic,
New Age Steppers,
Isaac Hayes,
The Mummies,
The Selecter,
The Doors,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Beau Brummels,
The Young Rascals,
Robert Hood,
David Axelrod,
Wire,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Golliwogs,
Index,
Urselle,
Eurythmics,
Wasted Youth,
The Zeros,
Neu!,
John Coltrane,
Negative Approach,
Jacques Brel,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.