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 Madagascar and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Lalo Schifrin to the electroclash 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radiopuhelimet,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kaleidoscope,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
K-Klass,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Malaria!,
Television,
Ken Boothe,
Spandau Ballet,
48th St. Collective,
The Count Five,
Robert Hood,
Youth Brigade,
Joyce Sims,
Althea and Donna,
The Walker Brothers,
Thee Headcoats,
Theoretical Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Fluxion,
The Moleskins,
Goldenarms,
Lindisfarne,
Funkadelic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalann,
The Neon Judgement,
Steve Hackett,
The Last Poets,
Marc Almond,
Saccharine Trust,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Searchers,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Quantec,
Funky Four + One,
Rakim,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eve St. Jones,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Matthew Bourne,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Ultra Naté,
Flamin' Groovies,
Vainqueur,
Pet Shop Boys,
Dual Sessions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Neil Young,
Bobby Byrd,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Barry Ungar,
Sam Rivers,
Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps, Swell Maps.
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.