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 Ecuador and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 D'Angelo to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Fad Gadget,
The Gap Band,
The Golliwogs,
Reagan Youth,
Al Stewart,
Rufus Thomas,
Con Funk Shun,
Cheater Slicks,
June of 44,
The Beau Brummels,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
R.M.O.,
Barclay James Harvest,
Piero Umiliani,
The New Christs,
Parry Music,
Sparks,
the Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
Alice Coltrane,
Easy Going,
Young Marble Giants,
Scott Walker,
The Skatalites,
Kurtis Blow,
Colin Newman,
Jandek,
Freddie Wadling,
The Moody Blues,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Mo-Dettes,
Depeche Mode,
Radio Birdman,
Donald Byrd,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeru the Damaja,
cv313,
The Mummies,
Liliput,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Gun Club,
Wally Richardson,
Cal Tjader,
The Wake,
Howard Jones,
Organ,
The Angels of Light,
Porter Ricks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Tremeloes,
David McCallum,
the Sonics,
The Vogues,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.