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 Lebanon and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Robert Hood to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Boogie Down Productions,
Eden Ahbez,
Scion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Boredoms,
K-Klass,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bad Manners,
Drexciya,
Jerry's Kids,
The Fortunes,
The Tremeloes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Man Parrish,
Parry Music,
The Wake,
Soul II Soul,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Flesh Eaters,
a-ha,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Moon,
Vladislav Delay,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Ultravox,
Zapp,
Moby Grape,
Crooked Eye,
DJ Sneak,
Sam Rivers,
Spoonie Gee,
The Victims,
Con Funk Shun,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Dirtbombs,
Mark Hollis,
Zero Boys,
June Days,
U.S. Maple,
The Associates,
Delon & Dalcan,
Alphaville,
Blancmange,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
DJ Style,
ABC,
The Pop Group,
The Music Machine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ponytail,
The Cramps,
Anakelly,
The Move,
Donald Byrd,
Excepter,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.