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 Winnipeg.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the sitar 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 Eli Mardock to the dance 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Buckinghams,
The Cramps,
Amazonics,
Loose Ends,
Angry Samoans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
K-Klass,
The Victims,
The Divine Comedy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Crispy Ambulance,
Make Up,
Outsiders,
Metal Thangz,
Nils Olav,
The Smoke,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
Juan Atkins,
Gang of Four,
Trumans Water,
Porter Ricks,
Arab on Radar,
Cybotron,
Roxette,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Liliput,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vainqueur,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Chris Corsano,
Throbbing Gristle,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Radio Birdman,
Yusef Lateef,
John Coltrane,
The Gap Band,
Marvin Gaye,
R.M.O.,
Hasil Adkins,
Darondo,
Minutemen,
Godley & Creme,
Y Pants,
Rufus Thomas,
Erykah Badu,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Minny Pops,
Audionom,
Brick,
Intrusion,
Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett, Steve Hackett.
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.