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 Ireland and from Madrid.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Sarah Menescal to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Lynne,
Angry Samoans,
Index,
Drexciya,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lalann,
Simply Red,
Glenn Branca,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Cecil Taylor,
Kool Moe Dee,
Q and Not U,
Scrapy,
Absolute Body Control,
The Leaves,
Eve St. Jones,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Yellowson,
Monks,
The Count Five,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cluster,
Depeche Mode,
Organ,
Unrelated Segments,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Dave Clark Five,
Donald Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
Scott Walker,
Bauhaus,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Real Kids,
Kerrie Biddell,
Fatback Band,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kaleidoscope,
Ten City,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Fire Engines,
Nils Olav,
Moebius,
Mandrill,
Rekid,
the Slits,
the Soft Cell,
Subhumans,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Saints,
Nation of Ulysses,
Severed Heads,
OOIOO,
Lucky Dragons,
Warsaw,
The United States of America,
Isaac Hayes,
John Foxx,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.