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 Mozambique and from Taipei.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 The Gap Band 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 Soul II Soul. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
The Offenders,
Todd Rundgren,
Jeff Mills,
Faust,
Ponytail,
Johnny Clarke,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Swans,
Japan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sonic Youth,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Jawbox,
Kayak,
E-Dancer,
Wings,
The Count Five,
Whodini,
Mantronix,
The Last Poets,
The J.B.'s,
Eric Copeland,
The Smoke,
CMW,
Reagan Youth,
Quadrant,
The Martian,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultimate Spinach,
Ossler,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Soulsonic Force,
Eli Mardock,
The Sound,
PIL,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Golliwogs,
Brass Construction,
Gregory Isaacs,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
A Certain Ratio,
DJ Style,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joey Negro,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
MDC,
Faraquet,
Radio Birdman,
the Germs,
Newcleus,
Moss Icon,
Alphaville,
OOIOO,
Jandek,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.