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 Italy 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 Manila and Columbus.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Max Romeo to the crunk 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 The Toasters. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ronan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Pretty Things,
Mark Hollis,
Cluster,
Rufus Thomas,
Marmalade,
Con Funk Shun,
Suburban Knight,
Henry Cow,
Patti Smith,
Rosa Yemen,
Fela Kuti,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brothers Johnson,
Model 500,
The Fortunes,
Cal Tjader,
Deadbeat,
Black Moon,
The Stooges,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Delta 5,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Real Kids,
Marcia Griffiths,
Massinfluence,
Graham Central Station,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minnie Riperton,
Stockholm Monsters,
a-ha,
The Zeros,
Television,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Durutti Column,
Todd Rundgren,
Mars,
New York Dolls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Youth Brigade,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Joe Finger,
Max Romeo,
The American Breed,
Peter and Kerry,
Glambeats Corp.,
Flipper,
The Beau Brummels,
U.S. Maple,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Niagra,
World's Most,
Little Man,
The Five Americans,
Flash Fearless,
David McCallum,
Stereo Dub,
Magazine, Magazine, Magazine, Magazine.
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.