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 Senegal and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Ornette Coleman to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Womack,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Toni Rubio,
Andrew Hill,
The Young Rascals,
Henry Cow,
The Fortunes,
This Heat,
In Retrospect,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Wolf Eyes,
Talk Talk,
Yellowson,
Michelle Simonal,
Spandau Ballet,
Siglo XX,
Chris & Cosey,
10cc,
Yazoo,
The Gories,
Severed Heads,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Scrapy,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Todd Rundgren,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Star Department,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Human League,
Excepter,
Boz Scaggs,
Peter and Kerry,
Make Up,
The Toasters,
The Dead C,
Robert Hood,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Five Americans,
New Age Steppers,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Buckinghams,
Agitation Free,
Susan Cadogan,
Sun City Girls,
Interpol,
The Kinks,
Motorama,
Masters at Work,
Ohio Players,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Modern Lovers,
Donald Byrd,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys, Pet Shop Boys.
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.