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 Pakistan and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Faust. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Little Man,
The Smoke,
Fela Kuti,
Joyce Sims,
Index,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Roxy Music,
Mandrill,
Fluxion,
The Gap Band,
Black Moon,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
the Bar-Kays,
La Düsseldorf,
Hashim,
Blake Baxter,
New Order,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Eurythmics,
Deadbeat,
Mantronix,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
The Dirtbombs,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Guru Guru,
Funkadelic,
Kenny Larkin,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Skatalites,
Y Pants,
Moebius,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Interpol,
The Selecter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Last Poets,
L. Decosne,
Reagan Youth,
Marine Girls,
The Blackbyrds,
Radio Birdman,
Steve Hackett,
Scratch Acid,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Con Funk Shun,
Stetsasonic,
U.S. Maple,
Peter and Kerry,
the Association,
Skarface,
Make Up,
Warsaw,
Lucky Dragons,
Suburban Knight,
Man Parrish,
Robert Görl,
Freddie Wadling,
Fatback Band,
Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light, Clear Light.
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.