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 Dominica and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Fear to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 L. Decosne. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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 Move,
Smog,
Max Romeo,
Von Mondo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Green,
10cc,
AZ,
Fugazi,
Maurizio,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fortunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Shoche,
Mad Mike,
Basic Channel,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
China Crisis,
Newcleus,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tim Buckley,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sällskapet,
Kaleidoscope,
The Mummies,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Suicide,
Radiopuhelimet,
Gang of Four,
Morten Harket,
Man Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
Piero Umiliani,
Panda Bear,
Angry Samoans,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
The Names,
The Blues Magoos,
Laurel Aitken,
Robert Görl,
Freddie Wadling,
Drive Like Jehu,
Juan Atkins,
Deepchord,
Suburban Knight,
Minutemen,
Desert Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Mojo Men,
R.M.O.,
Black Bananas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.