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 Nepal and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pulsallama to the dance 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yusef Lateef record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Henry Cow,
The Beau Brummels,
Robert Görl,
Jeff Lynne,
Skaos,
Pagans,
A Certain Ratio,
Public Enemy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Das Ding,
Nik Kershaw,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Hot Snakes,
David McCallum,
Archie Shepp,
Talk Talk,
Isaac Hayes,
Agent Orange,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Andrew Hill,
Quadrant,
Yazoo,
Tim Buckley,
Desert Stars,
Babytalk,
Susan Cadogan,
Quantec,
Cheater Slicks,
EPMD,
Metal Thangz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Slave,
Unwound,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Names,
Terry Callier,
Sixth Finger,
One Last Wish,
The Barracudas,
Spandau Ballet,
The Last Poets,
Eli Mardock,
Janne Schatter,
Glambeats Corp.,
B.T. Express,
The Saints,
Groovy Waters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Nas,
Sam Rivers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Black Flag,
Marmalade,
The Monochrome Set,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Bar-Kays,
Big Daddy Kane,
Model 500,
Harry Pussy,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.