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 Libya and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Normal,
The Monochrome Set,
Lalo Schifrin,
Technova,
The Smoke,
Zero Boys,
MDC,
Alice Coltrane,
Quadrant,
A Certain Ratio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maurizio,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tears for Fears,
The Standells,
Severed Heads,
kango's stein massive,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bush Tetras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Michelle Simonal,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Boredoms,
T. Rex,
Moebius,
The Star Department,
Brick,
Graham Central Station,
F. McDonald,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Busters,
The Mojo Men,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
John Holt,
Circle Jerks,
Ornette Coleman,
Supertramp,
Soft Machine,
Adolescents,
The Gladiators,
OOIOO,
Minnie Riperton,
Peter and Kerry,
Crash Course in Science,
Fear,
Soft Cell,
Max Romeo,
D'Angelo,
In Retrospect,
The Barracudas,
The Knickerbockers,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Fania All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
The Slits,
Jacques Brel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Fall,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.