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 Comoros and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Vainqueur to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 rhodes 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 organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rotary Connection,
Marine Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Make Up,
Reagan Youth,
Bluetip,
This Heat,
Wings,
Lakeside,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ohio Players,
Unwound,
Schoolly D,
The Doors,
The Fuzztones,
Scrapy,
Bang On A Can,
Roxette,
Tropical Tobacco,
Heaven 17,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Black Pus,
X-Ray Spex,
Don Cherry,
Drexciya,
Crispian St. Peters,
Trumans Water,
Ludus,
Quantec,
The Slackers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lightning Bolt,
Sun Ra,
Young Marble Giants,
The Moleskins,
Matthew Bourne,
a-ha,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Youth Brigade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Avey Tare,
Roger Hodgson,
Duran Duran,
Camberwell Now,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bobby Byrd,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Zero Boys,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultra Naté,
Minny Pops,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Can,
Rod Modell,
Sixth Finger,
Dawn Penn,
Aural Exciters,
The Standells,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lindisfarne,
Dual Sessions,
Supertramp,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Radiopuhelimet,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.