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 Bahrain and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 marimba 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 the Bar-Kays to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Skriet. All the underground hits.
All Steve Hackett tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Be Bop Deluxe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Jeru the Damaja,
Desert Stars,
Eve St. Jones,
The Golliwogs,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lou Christie,
Hashim,
Joe Finger,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pylon,
The Gap Band,
Gichy Dan,
Outsiders,
Technova,
PIL,
L. Decosne,
The Misunderstood,
Warsaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Clear Light,
Josef K,
Donny Hathaway,
Royal Trux,
Average White Band,
Babytalk,
The Walker Brothers,
Tropical Tobacco,
the Sonics,
The Zeros,
Chris & Cosey,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
Lindisfarne,
the Bar-Kays,
Todd Terry,
Judy Mowatt,
Loose Ends,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
cv313,
The Busters,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
Kenny Larkin,
Crispian St. Peters,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lalann,
Crime,
Ultra Naté,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bobby Womack,
Jeff Lynne,
Shoche,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bill Near,
John Holt,
Kevin Saunderson,
Terry Callier,
Amon Düül,
Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players, Ohio Players.
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.