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 Jamaica and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manchester.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Shuggie Otis to the dance 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arthur Verocai record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Andrew Hill,
The Music Machine,
Aswad,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Tubeway Army,
The Busters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Doors,
Panda Bear,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric B and Rakim,
John Coltrane,
T.S.O.L.,
F. McDonald,
Moby Grape,
EPMD,
The Toasters,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Standells,
Khruangbin,
Soul Sonic Force,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick May,
Theoretical Girls,
Harry Pussy,
Zapp,
Idris Muhammad,
Pantaleimon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flash Fearless,
DJ Style,
Yusef Lateef,
Bronski Beat,
Tom Boy,
The American Breed,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Yaz,
Funkadelic,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hot Snakes,
Television,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Isaac Hayes,
Reagan Youth,
New Age Steppers,
Arcadia,
JFA,
Lebanon Hanover,
Electric Light Orchestra,
David McCallum,
Talk Talk,
Marc Almond,
Aloha Tigers,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Girls At Our Best!,
Vladislav Delay,
Ohio Players,
Althea and Donna,
the Soft Cell,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.