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 Niger and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Milan.
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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Almond to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Archie Shepp 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Rotary Connection,
Gil Scott Heron,
Groovy Waters,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bobby Womack,
The Velvet Underground,
Black Flag,
Nation of Ulysses,
June Days,
Rites of Spring,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan,
Davy DMX,
Archie Shepp,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Fugs,
Spoonie Gee,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Crime,
Bush Tetras,
Von Mondo,
Siglo XX,
Traffic Nightmare,
Quando Quango,
Matthew Bourne,
Pussy Galore,
Mars,
Mo-Dettes,
Scott Walker,
Delta 5,
Bauhaus,
Liliput,
Judy Mowatt,
Arthur Verocai,
The Victims,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Supertramp,
Underground Resistance,
Pole,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roxette,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pantytec,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Görl,
Lou Christie,
Talk Talk,
Susan Cadogan,
New Age Steppers,
Idris Muhammad,
Yellowson,
LL Cool J,
Grandmaster Flash,
Connie Case,
The Raincoats,
Fatback Band,
Terrestrial Tones,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.