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 Congo and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 Simply Red to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Half Japanese 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Beasts of Bourbon,
Brick,
Charles Mingus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Y Pants,
Stiv Bators,
Al Stewart,
Fugazi,
Camberwell Now,
June Days,
Country Teasers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Silicon Teens,
Minny Pops,
Sun City Girls,
Gang Gang Dance,
Mantronix,
Barrington Levy,
John Holt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Pussy Galore,
Wolf Eyes,
Nas,
Quando Quango,
Judy Mowatt,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
Freddie Wadling,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Josef K,
Organ,
Kayak,
EPMD,
Pulsallama,
The Electric Prunes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dawn Penn,
Sonny Sharrock,
FM Einheit,
The Tremeloes,
Little Man,
The Neon Judgement,
U.S. Maple,
Aural Exciters,
Lower 48,
The Kinks,
Letta Mbulu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dual Sessions,
Pere Ubu,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Victims,
Basic Channel,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Golliwogs,
The Gladiators,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
The Human League, The Human League, The Human League, The Human League.
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.