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 Cambodia and from Seoul.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Lou Christie to the grime 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 Wally Richardson. All the underground hits.
All Ohio Players tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fela Kuti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
The Monks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Deadbeat,
Tim Buckley,
The Seeds,
Byron Stingily,
DNA,
Carl Craig,
Bronski Beat,
Siglo XX,
Shuggie Otis,
The Shadows of Knight,
Jeff Lynne,
The Young Rascals,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
Ludus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Skriet,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Kinks,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alphaville,
John Lydon,
the Association,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nick Fraelich,
The Gun Club,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barbara Tucker,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Iggy Pop,
Bush Tetras,
Aaron Thompson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Sherman,
Bob Dylan,
Drexciya,
Marcia Griffiths,
Stetsasonic,
Half Japanese,
R.M.O.,
Peter and Kerry,
The Martian,
Blake Baxter,
Radiohead,
Japan,
Bluetip,
Marine Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
John Foxx,
World's Most,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Supertramp,
Junior Murvin,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sun City Girls,
Michelle Simonal,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.