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 Gabon and from Bremen.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 Tommy Roe to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Section 25,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Organ,
The Modern Lovers,
Fugazi,
The Cowsills,
Roger Hodgson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Glenn Branca,
L. Decosne,
DJ Sneak,
Mars,
Soul Sonic Force,
Blake Baxter,
R.M.O.,
Lucky Dragons,
Warsaw,
Bluetip,
Matthew Halsall,
Delta 5,
Camberwell Now,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Kurtis Blow,
The Slits,
Wolf Eyes,
Roy Ayers,
Pylon,
John Holt,
Swans,
Hashim,
Brick,
Connie Case,
Jeff Mills,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bob Dylan,
The Remains,
The Fugs,
Sixth Finger,
Moby Grape,
Trumans Water,
X-101,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott Heron,
Blossom Toes,
The Vogues,
Gang Green,
Lower 48,
The American Breed,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Pus,
Con Funk Shun,
Althea and Donna,
Japan,
Kenny Larkin,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Black Dice,
Rekid,
June Days,
Supertramp,
The Trojans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow, Kings Of Tomorrow.
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.