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 Kazakhstan 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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Agitation Free to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 8 Eyed Spy. All the underground hits.
All Terry Callier tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fat Boys,
Marvin Gaye,
Susan Cadogan,
Essential Logic,
Reuben Wilson,
Steve Hackett,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Electric Prunes,
Ohio Players,
Mo-Dettes,
Alice Coltrane,
Anakelly,
Excepter,
The Index,
Rosa Yemen,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
10cc,
Tim Buckley,
Parry Music,
Radiohead,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Soulsonic Force,
Franke,
Letta Mbulu,
Donald Byrd,
the Sonics,
The Fuzztones,
World's Most,
the Association,
Television Personalities,
David McCallum,
The Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vladislav Delay,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
The Grass Roots,
ABC,
Mark Hollis,
Alton Ellis,
Suicide,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
New Age Steppers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mad Mike,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Motions,
OOIOO,
Crash Course in Science,
Little Man,
U.S. Maple,
The Star Department,
Black Moon,
Malaria!,
The Durutti Column,
The Trojans,
Flipper,
Anthony Braxton,
D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo, D'Angelo.
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.