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 Turkmenistan and from Accra.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Red Krayola to the grunge 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 Beasts of Bourbon. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pole,
Tubeway Army,
Robert Wyatt,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nils Olav,
Faraquet,
Donald Byrd,
Loose Ends,
Maurizio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Scan 7,
Fear,
Goldenarms,
Country Teasers,
The American Breed,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Section 25,
The Dead C,
Mission of Burma,
Bob Dylan,
John Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pretty Things,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Magma,
Public Image Ltd.,
Scott Walker,
Eddi Front,
Marmalade,
Graham Central Station,
Hashim,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Frankie Knuckles,
Von Mondo,
Icehouse,
Ultravox,
Livin' Joy,
Echospace,
Gang of Four,
Cybotron,
Fatback Band,
Mandrill,
Blossom Toes,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacob Miller,
kango's stein massive,
The Dirtbombs,
Little Man,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Flesh Eaters,
10cc,
Chrome,
Barbara Tucker,
Index,
Sam Rivers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Main Source,
Donny Hathaway,
Hardrive,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.