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 Laos and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the techno 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 Vladislav Delay. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rapeman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
Shuggie Otis,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gang Green,
The Flesh Eaters,
Connie Case,
Robert Hood,
Malaria!,
The Blackbyrds,
Minor Threat,
Max Romeo,
The J.B.'s,
Massinfluence,
Sun City Girls,
Heaven 17,
Kool Moe Dee,
Popol Vuh,
Patti Smith,
Main Source,
The Smoke,
Flash Fearless,
R.M.O.,
Excepter,
Thompson Twins,
Maurizio,
Skarface,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kurtis Blow,
Lightning Bolt,
Isaac Hayes,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Vogues,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Bob Dylan,
Leonard Cohen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Funky Four + One,
Can,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Aural Exciters,
Nico,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Ultravox,
The Names,
Todd Terry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
Moebius,
John Holt,
The Divine Comedy,
Camberwell Now,
Bang On A Can,
D'Angelo,
Gabor Szabo,
Nas,
Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry, Don Cherry.
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.