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 St Lucia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gerry Rafferty to the techno 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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Funkadelic,
The United States of America,
The Martian,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Andrew Hill,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Subhumans,
Todd Rundgren,
Crooked Eye,
Grey Daturas,
The Names,
Susan Cadogan,
John Foxx,
Peter and Kerry,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cal Tjader,
Brothers Johnson,
Minnie Riperton,
8 Eyed Spy,
Mr. Review,
Severed Heads,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Move,
Quando Quango,
Vladislav Delay,
Hardrive,
Moby Grape,
Intrusion,
Donald Byrd,
Guru Guru,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Walker Brothers,
Kurtis Blow,
The Toasters,
Idris Muhammad,
Derrick Morgan,
Sonny Sharrock,
Aural Exciters,
John Coltrane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dennis Brown,
The Neon Judgement,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pylon,
The Sound,
Leonard Cohen,
Blake Baxter,
PIL,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Alice Coltrane,
Basic Channel,
Blossom Toes,
Pussy Galore,
Khruangbin,
the Normal,
Lou Reed,
LL Cool J,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.