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 Micronesia and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Flamin' Groovies to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Count Five. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Niagra,
Los Fastidios,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Piero Umiliani,
New York Dolls,
The Toasters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Roxy Music,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kerri Chandler,
Alphaville,
The Selecter,
Ken Boothe,
Quantec,
Heaven 17,
Oneida,
Amon Düül II,
The Flesh Eaters,
Nas,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
Tears for Fears,
E-Dancer,
The Golliwogs,
Glenn Branca,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Mars,
Sight & Sound,
Outsiders,
The Moody Blues,
The Busters,
Bluetip,
a-ha,
Sound Behaviour,
The Invisible,
Das Ding,
X-101,
The Wake,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Y Pants,
Lou Christie,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Infiniti,
Roxette,
Man Parrish,
Suicide,
EPMD,
The Fortunes,
Average White Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lucky Dragons,
Dennis Brown,
Graham Central Station,
Neil Young,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.