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 Syria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in 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 Sugar Minott 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 Thee Headcoats. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Monks,
Rites of Spring,
Maurizio,
Ossler,
Ludus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sonic Youth,
Alison Limerick,
Minutemen,
The Grass Roots,
The Seeds,
Aswad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sandy B,
Maleditus Sound,
Kayak,
Soul II Soul,
Flipper,
Sun City Girls,
Jeff Mills,
Cal Tjader,
Cecil Taylor,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Subhumans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Animal Collective,
Gang Starr,
Bob Dylan,
Andrew Hill,
The Evens,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Popol Vuh,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bush Tetras,
The Invisible,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scion,
Gastr Del Sol,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Patti Smith,
The Five Americans,
The Smiths,
Warren Ellis,
Technova,
Blossom Toes,
Yazoo,
Donald Byrd,
Buzzcocks,
Terrestrial Tones,
Radio Birdman,
Ornette Coleman,
Judy Mowatt,
Mandrill,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Monks,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.