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 Netherlands and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Henry Cow to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Starr record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
June of 44,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Visage,
Aloha Tigers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Electric Prunes,
The Last Poets,
Crime,
Andrew Hill,
Leonard Cohen,
Simply Red,
Thee Headcoats,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sarah Menescal,
Brand Nubian,
The Fugs,
Kurtis Blow,
Lungfish,
Grey Daturas,
Fat Boys,
Newcleus,
Eurythmics,
The Vogues,
The Birthday Party,
Pole,
Marcia Griffiths,
Al Stewart,
Supertramp,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Magma,
Neu!,
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Byrd,
Grauzone,
The Doors,
The Motions,
The Moody Blues,
Sandy B,
Eric Dolphy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Underground Resistance,
Sixth Finger,
Thompson Twins,
Zapp,
Ultimate Spinach,
Schoolly D,
Robert Görl,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amon Düül,
The Zeros,
Morten Harket,
This Heat,
MC5,
Bill Near,
The Barracudas,
10cc,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.