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 Estonia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Edmonton.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gichy Dan to the rock 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fela Kuti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
These Immortal Souls,
Porter Ricks,
Liliput,
Gang Starr,
Don Cherry,
Lucky Dragons,
Scott Walker,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
World's Most,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Buckinghams,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Livin' Joy,
Mark Hollis,
Nas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lindisfarne,
The Move,
The Cowsills,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deakin,
Stockholm Monsters,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Pus,
MDC,
Soul II Soul,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soft Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joy Division,
Alton Ellis,
F. McDonald,
H. Thieme,
Minny Pops,
Minor Threat,
Connie Case,
Sound Behaviour,
Lightning Bolt,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Spoonie Gee,
Sonny Sharrock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marine Girls,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Saints,
Charles Mingus,
Ponytail,
Alphaville,
Bob Dylan,
The J.B.'s,
Con Funk Shun,
Neu!,
Scion,
Ultra Naté,
Chris & Cosey,
Jawbox,
Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat, Deadbeat.
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.