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 Niger and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pulsallama to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Steve Hackett. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mission of Burma record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shuggie Otis,
Kerri Chandler,
D'Angelo,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
David Bowie,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Tim Buckley,
Althea and Donna,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Christie,
Procol Harum,
The Beau Brummels,
The Last Poets,
Bang On A Can,
John Coltrane,
Eric Copeland,
Rakim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ralphi Rosario,
OOIOO,
EPMD,
Derrick Morgan,
Gang Starr,
Slave,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Little Man,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Lynne,
Deakin,
Dead Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Donald Byrd,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Monks,
Colin Newman,
Cymande,
The Blues Magoos,
Johnny Clarke,
The Black Dice,
Barry Ungar,
Organ,
The Mummies,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Raincoats,
Wasted Youth,
The Fortunes,
Sam Rivers,
Steve Hackett,
Stiv Bators,
The Music Machine,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Moss Icon,
Moebius,
Mantronix,
Altered Images,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.