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 Liberia and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Cymande to the electroclash 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Selector Dub Narcotic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Accadde A record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slackers,
Scrapy,
Piero Umiliani,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Hood,
Derrick May,
Swell Maps,
Dorothy Ashby,
Angry Samoans,
Bang On A Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Martian,
Siglo XX,
Donny Hathaway,
Ossler,
The Move,
Con Funk Shun,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
KRS-One,
June of 44,
Hashim,
The Monochrome Set,
Steve Hackett,
Gichy Dan,
Connie Case,
Negative Approach,
Wolf Eyes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Parrish,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Raincoats,
Ultra Naté,
The Young Rascals,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cal Tjader,
Radiohead,
Loose Ends,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-Ray Spex,
Suicide,
The Birthday Party,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bronski Beat,
Girls At Our Best!,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soulsonic Force,
Wings,
Skriet,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lou Christie,
Erykah Badu,
The Toasters,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.