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 Armenia and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Au Pairs to the rock 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 The Index. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Loose Ends 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 güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pole,
The Leaves,
The Toasters,
Essential Logic,
Interpol,
Skriet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Liliput,
Soft Cell,
Big Daddy Kane,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ohio Players,
The Fall,
New Order,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lyres,
Mission of Burma,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The J.B.'s,
The Gap Band,
Sällskapet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Roxy Music,
Public Image Ltd.,
Derrick Morgan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Red Krayola,
Glenn Branca,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
T.S.O.L.,
Main Source,
The Smoke,
Bootsy Collins,
Hoover,
Rekid,
Minutemen,
The Monochrome Set,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Severed Heads,
The Zeros,
Ralphi Rosario,
Cymande,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Quadrant,
Minor Threat,
Chris & Cosey,
Suburban Knight,
Tears for Fears,
Slick Rick,
Sixth Finger,
Fugazi,
Charles Mingus,
The Kinks,
Shuggie Otis,
Scratch Acid,
Black Pus,
Heaven 17,
Cecil Taylor,
Brick,
Sonny Sharrock,
Crash Course in Science,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.