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 Rwanda and from Tokyo.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Steve Hackett 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All Ultra Naté tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
The Remains,
Marvin Gaye,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Fuzztones,
Soft Cell,
the Normal,
Delon & Dalcan,
Howard Jones,
The J.B.'s,
The Blues Magoos,
Fat Boys,
Bush Tetras,
Glenn Branca,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Massinfluence,
The Divine Comedy,
Idris Muhammad,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
Wire,
the Bar-Kays,
Kaleidoscope,
The Monks,
X-101,
The Human League,
Max Romeo,
The Cowsills,
Anthony Braxton,
Royal Trux,
Q65,
Kenny Larkin,
Lou Christie,
Soulsonic Force,
The Leaves,
T. Rex,
The Pretty Things,
David Axelrod,
F. McDonald,
Ultra Naté,
EPMD,
Mandrill,
Sister Nancy,
the Swans,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
Con Funk Shun,
E-Dancer,
Johnny Osbourne,
48th St. Collective,
Hoover,
Panda Bear,
Joy Division,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Mad Mike,
Don Cherry,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Tremeloes,
Aural Exciters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.