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 Bhutan and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Arcadia to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All John Coltrane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
Agent Orange,
Marcia Griffiths,
Al Stewart,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Make Up,
Carl Craig,
Gichy Dan,
Lou Reed,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nico,
Don Cherry,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Popol Vuh,
The Cramps,
Laurel Aitken,
David Bowie,
Beasts of Bourbon,
OOIOO,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
David McCallum,
The Detroit Cobras,
MDC,
the Association,
The New Christs,
Fugazi,
Boogie Down Productions,
Oblivians,
Dark Day,
Black Pus,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Hot Snakes,
Jacques Brel,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mark Hollis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Interpol,
Los Fastidios,
Bush Tetras,
Qualms,
Bob Dylan,
T. Rex,
The Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Scientists,
Swell Maps,
CMW,
Davy DMX,
The Pretty Things,
Unrelated Segments,
the Bar-Kays,
Bill Wells,
Radio Birdman,
The Motions,
Grauzone,
The Birthday Party,
The Moody Blues,
Amazonics,
Minutemen,
Technova,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.