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 London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeff Lynne to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Divine Comedy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Parry Music,
Althea and Donna,
The Martian,
Aswad,
Dead Boys,
Ultra Naté,
Connie Case,
Peter and Kerry,
The Techniques,
The Moleskins,
Agent Orange,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
Unwound,
kango's stein massive,
Zapp,
T. Rex,
The Durutti Column,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brothers Johnson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Newcleus,
Sonny Sharrock,
Audionom,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Selecter,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Robert Hood,
The Litter,
Cymande,
Dennis Brown,
The Offenders,
Gang Starr,
Sonic Youth,
Todd Terry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Donny Hathaway,
Wolf Eyes,
Rakim,
Television,
Davy DMX,
Drexciya,
Public Enemy,
Shuggie Otis,
Fugazi,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Buzzcocks,
The Standells,
The Fall,
UT,
Leonard Cohen,
The Black Dice,
Sandy B,
Laurel Aitken,
The Evens,
Chrome,
Avey Tare,
Mandrill,
The Cowsills,
The Last Poets,
Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt, Judy Mowatt.
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.