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 Kitts & Nevis and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 Columbus and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Flamin' Groovies to the jazz 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a KRS-One record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Thee Headcoats,
Fugazi,
Ornette Coleman,
MDC,
Crooked Eye,
Eric Dolphy,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Divine Comedy,
Ten City,
Index,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
Vainqueur,
UT,
The Offenders,
Soul II Soul,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Von Mondo,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Lydon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Alice Coltrane,
Whodini,
Wire,
Siglo XX,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Simply Red,
Minny Pops,
Eden Ahbez,
The Barracudas,
Fat Boys,
Deepchord,
10cc,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Raincoats,
The Fall,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Roy Ayers,
The Cowsills,
The Martian,
Peter and Kerry,
The Names,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crispy Ambulance,
Ossler,
Zero Boys,
Gabor Szabo,
Arcadia,
Unwound,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Misunderstood,
Ken Boothe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.