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 Sudan and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the theremin 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Khruangbin. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every K-Klass 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Graham Central Station,
Masters at Work,
Al Stewart,
Flamin' Groovies,
Funkadelic,
Aaron Thompson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
Hardrive,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Tim Buckley,
Easy Going,
The Beau Brummels,
Ponytail,
Infiniti,
Matthew Halsall,
Shoche,
Althea and Donna,
Gong,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Outsiders,
Ralphi Rosario,
Colin Newman,
Delta 5,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Steve Hackett,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Fuzztones,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case,
Rites of Spring,
DNA,
Technova,
Godley & Creme,
LL Cool J,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
R.M.O.,
Sight & Sound,
Man Parrish,
Pole,
Maurizio,
Icehouse,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Gladiators,
Prince Buster,
Peter and Kerry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Human League,
Johnny Clarke,
The Velvet Underground,
The Offenders,
The New Christs,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Country Teasers,
Jacques Brel,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.