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 Malaysia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Freddie Wadling to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
Altered Images,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Johnny Clarke,
Iggy Pop,
London Community Gospel Choir,
New Order,
Skriet,
Sixth Finger,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Scratch Acid,
Boz Scaggs,
Byron Stingily,
Vainqueur,
Radiohead,
Nas,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Piero Umiliani,
The Fortunes,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
Cymande,
Ronan,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Bar-Kays,
Danielle Patucci,
Bob Dylan,
Fluxion,
Supertramp,
The Divine Comedy,
Gang of Four,
Jimmy McGriff,
Flash Fearless,
The Stooges,
Clear Light,
Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Eurythmics,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Amon Düül II,
the Association,
The Sound,
Skaos,
Peter and Kerry,
Chris Corsano,
Excepter,
Spandau Ballet,
The Raincoats,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
H. Thieme,
Marshall Jefferson,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
D'Angelo,
Traffic Nightmare,
Sound Behaviour,
Technova,
Malaria!,
Outsiders,
Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi, Fugazi.
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.