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 Brazil and from Cairo.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Bobby Womack to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Prince Buster. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Modern Lovers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sam Rivers,
Whodini,
Amon Düül,
Bluetip,
Sandy B,
Aloha Tigers,
T. Rex,
Cheater Slicks,
ABC,
The Durutti Column,
Aural Exciters,
FM Einheit,
The Dead C,
Alphaville,
Essential Logic,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Motions,
Rakim,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Surgeon,
D'Angelo,
The Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
The Neon Judgement,
The Searchers,
New Order,
Pulsallama,
Scrapy,
Amazonics,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cure,
Crash Course in Science,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Pagans,
Godley & Creme,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Barclay James Harvest,
Qualms,
Jacob Miller,
Anthony Braxton,
Nik Kershaw,
The Young Rascals,
Youth Brigade,
Oblivians,
Organ,
Mars,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Letta Mbulu,
Max Romeo,
Minny Pops,
KRS-One,
Bootsy Collins,
MC5,
Albert Ayler,
Gang Gang Dance,
Altered Images,
The Buckinghams,
Hot Snakes,
Yusef Lateef,
Technova,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.