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 Algeria and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Janne Schatter to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Darondo. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gregory Isaacs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Gang Gang Dance,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Gun Club,
The New Christs,
Shuggie Otis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Toni Rubio,
Ice-T,
Ken Boothe,
The Happenings,
Swell Maps,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
This Heat,
Fugazi,
Camouflage,
Sarah Menescal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
PIL,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Wasted Youth,
DNA,
Swans,
Harmonia,
Quantec,
Radio Birdman,
Adolescents,
Judy Mowatt,
La Düsseldorf,
Spoonie Gee,
Pussy Galore,
The Beau Brummels,
The Angels of Light,
Jacob Miller,
Juan Atkins,
Darondo,
Brass Construction,
Goldenarms,
Supertramp,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Zeros,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott Heron,
Make Up,
Kayak,
Funky Four + One,
Gang of Four,
Babytalk,
Qualms,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Zero Boys,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
John Coltrane,
Niagra,
Soft Machine,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source,
Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye, Marvin Gaye.
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.