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 Maldives and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Tomorrow to the punk 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Last Poets record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Blackbyrds,
Newcleus,
Model 500,
The Associates,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rekid,
Roxy Music,
Royal Trux,
Donny Hathaway,
Bill Wells,
Barclay James Harvest,
Erykah Badu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deakin,
Buzzcocks,
Slave,
Technova,
Amazonics,
the Association,
FM Einheit,
Quando Quango,
Jeru the Damaja,
EPMD,
Khruangbin,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marvin Gaye,
Funky Four + One,
Thompson Twins,
Ultimate Spinach,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Bourne,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Cramps,
The Saints,
The Toasters,
Peter & Gordon,
The Invisible,
The New Christs,
Sandy B,
Desert Stars,
Gang Starr,
Public Image Ltd.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Judy Mowatt,
New York Dolls,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Lou Reed,
Al Stewart,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ten City,
The Fall,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Knickerbockers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Juan Atkins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.