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 Palau and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Winnipeg.
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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
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 Junior Murvin to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zapp,
Glambeats Corp.,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Byron Stingily,
Kayak,
Cybotron,
Connie Case,
Eddi Front,
Infiniti,
The Beau Brummels,
The Saints,
the Swans,
Bob Dylan,
Scrapy,
The Buckinghams,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Soft Machine,
Fad Gadget,
Beasts of Bourbon,
D'Angelo,
Prince Buster,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Schoolly D,
Peter and Kerry,
Mandrill,
Matthew Halsall,
Jeff Lynne,
Los Fastidios,
Sixth Finger,
Kas Product,
The Motions,
Main Source,
Michelle Simonal,
Minutemen,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sandy B,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cameo,
Amazonics,
The Slits,
The Offenders,
Rufus Thomas,
Eric Copeland,
La Düsseldorf,
Roxy Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pagans,
The Cure,
Andrew Hill,
The Victims,
Marine Girls,
The Evens,
Cecil Taylor,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Human League,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Terry,
Heaven 17,
Minny Pops,
Aural Exciters,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.