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 Togo and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Brick to the rap 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lebanon Hanover,
Visage,
Eric Dolphy,
CMW,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
ABBA,
Circle Jerks,
The Dead C,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echospace,
Zapp,
Drexciya,
Althea and Donna,
Wasted Youth,
Grey Daturas,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalann,
Wally Richardson,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
New York Dolls,
The Move,
Magazine,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
The Happenings,
Oblivians,
The Wake,
Franke,
The Tremeloes,
Barbara Tucker,
Suicide,
Harmonia,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
Sam Rivers,
Carl Craig,
Colin Newman,
The Last Poets,
The Young Rascals,
Schoolly D,
Bizarre Inc.,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Simply Red,
Matthew Bourne,
Arthur Verocai,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ralphi Rosario,
10cc,
The Victims,
Inner City,
The Count Five,
Siglo XX,
Janne Schatter,
Black Moon,
Fear,
Stereo Dub,
This Heat,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.