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 Samoa and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
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 The Doobie Brothers to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Soul II Soul,
Country Teasers,
Eurythmics,
The Dirtbombs,
Donald Byrd,
Joe Smooth,
Barry Ungar,
Lucky Dragons,
World's Most,
The Sonics,
The Cowsills,
Graham Central Station,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Roxette,
cv313,
Warsaw,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Masters at Work,
Don Cherry,
The Doors,
Rufus Thomas,
Pussy Galore,
Yellowson,
Kayak,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Jandek,
Average White Band,
Amon Düül,
Heaven 17,
Bronski Beat,
Vainqueur,
Big Daddy Kane,
Aswad,
Alton Ellis,
Tears for Fears,
Terry Callier,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
David Axelrod,
Tim Buckley,
The Fuzztones,
The Music Machine,
MDC,
Black Sheep,
Bluetip,
the Normal,
Max Romeo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Shoche,
Kas Product,
Fad Gadget,
Derrick May,
Sister Nancy,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bang On A Can,
Siglo XX,
the Human League,
Tropical Tobacco,
Japan,
Tommy Roe,
Lalann, Lalann, Lalann, Lalann.
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.