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 Comoros and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Jeff Mills to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Flamin' Groovies. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Associates,
Altered Images,
Au Pairs,
Danielle Patucci,
Hashim,
Minnie Riperton,
Bad Manners,
The Residents,
Crispy Ambulance,
Junior Murvin,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Toasters,
Y Pants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Janne Schatter,
Skriet,
The Fugs,
Colin Newman,
Gang Green,
The Moody Blues,
Newcleus,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Public Enemy,
Tommy Roe,
Lee Hazlewood,
Ludus,
Niagra,
Sam Rivers,
Drive Like Jehu,
Symarip,
Bobby Womack,
Unrelated Segments,
The Real Kids,
The Monochrome Set,
Country Teasers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Yusef Lateef,
Drexciya,
Jandek,
Unwound,
cv313,
Sister Nancy,
Bush Tetras,
Ituana,
The Skatalites,
Rites of Spring,
The Five Americans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Marine Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sonny Sharrock,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Kenny Larkin,
The Star Department,
Tears for Fears,
Max Romeo,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.