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 Uganda and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Shanghai.
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 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 Michael McDonald 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 Warsaw to the disco 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Fatback Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slick Rick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Infiniti,
Circle Jerks,
Bush Tetras,
Mo-Dettes,
Pylon,
The Music Machine,
Ultra Naté,
Nils Olav,
Accadde A,
Kurtis Blow,
Jeff Mills,
D'Angelo,
The Barracudas,
Adolescents,
Sister Nancy,
Angry Samoans,
Skaos,
Patti Smith,
Livin' Joy,
Funkadelic,
JFA,
Bill Wells,
Outsiders,
H. Thieme,
Organ,
Ronnie Foster,
Pere Ubu,
Toni Rubio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Glambeats Corp.,
Drexciya,
the Bar-Kays,
Fad Gadget,
The Leaves,
Thompson Twins,
Hoover,
A Flock of Seagulls,
OOIOO,
In Retrospect,
Cecil Taylor,
Donny Hathaway,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Joe & The Fish,
La Düsseldorf,
DNA,
Flash Fearless,
Fear,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Junior Murvin,
Charles Mingus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Porter Ricks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
ABC,
Nirvana,
Siglo XX,
Robert Hood,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
Oneida,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Happenings,
Grey Daturas,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.