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 Uzbekistan and from Portland.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anthony Braxton 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Sister Nancy,
Archie Shepp,
Panda Bear,
Joyce Sims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
10cc,
Avey Tare,
Lalann,
Black Flag,
EPMD,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stiv Bators,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moleskins,
Robert Hood,
Ornette Coleman,
One Last Wish,
Vladislav Delay,
Radio Birdman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Infiniti,
Jesper Dahlback,
Whodini,
Khruangbin,
The Blackbyrds,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Scratch Acid,
Pierre Henry,
Oneida,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Royal Trux,
Grey Daturas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Tres Demented,
The Dirtbombs,
the Association,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Wings,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
John Coltrane,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Move,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Remains,
Warren Ellis,
Barrington Levy,
Clear Light,
The Gladiators,
Nas,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
Bronski Beat,
Morten Harket,
The Mojo Men,
Visage,
E-Dancer,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.