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 Tajikistan and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Yaz to the grime 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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Marvin Gaye,
OOIOO,
The Electric Prunes,
the Bar-Kays,
The Cosmic Jokers,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soulsonic Force,
Arcadia,
Accadde A,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Dead Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Rapeman,
Josef K,
Oneida,
The Zeros,
The Flesh Eaters,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
The Standells,
KRS-One,
Yellowson,
Fat Boys,
Qualms,
Cheater Slicks,
Magma,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Moleskins,
Nils Olav,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Man Eating Sloth,
Nas,
Gang Green,
Darondo,
The Gun Club,
Laurel Aitken,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Whodini,
Gerry Rafferty,
Absolute Body Control,
Skriet,
Unwound,
The Techniques,
Minor Threat,
Roger Hodgson,
Kaleidoscope,
Jeru the Damaja,
Archie Shepp,
Howard Jones,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Buckinghams,
Amon Düül II,
T. Rex,
Todd Rundgren,
The Red Krayola,
The Busters,
Los Fastidios,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.