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 Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Stockholm.
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 clarinet 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 Rhythm & Sound to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Shadows of Knight. All the underground hits.
All Rufus Thomas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Quando Quango,
Jeff Lynne,
Minnie Riperton,
Absolute Body Control,
H. Thieme,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Rufus Thomas,
The Gladiators,
Davy DMX,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eve St. Jones,
Dual Sessions,
The New Christs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Faraquet,
Alton Ellis,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Bill Near,
Marmalade,
the Slits,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brass Construction,
Alice Coltrane,
Can,
Magma,
Colin Newman,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Monochrome Set,
Matthew Halsall,
Lindisfarne,
Country Teasers,
John Holt,
cv313,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bill Wells,
a-ha,
Cabaret Voltaire,
U.S. Maple,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Aswad,
Con Funk Shun,
Man Parrish,
Half Japanese,
KRS-One,
Suburban Knight,
The Gories,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Judy Mowatt,
Jerry's Kids,
The Victims,
Barry Ungar,
Scott Walker,
Crime,
Fugazi,
Black Sheep,
Scion,
Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band, Bootsy's Rubber Band.
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.