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 Dominican Republic and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan to the disco 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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Smiths,
Gang Starr,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Sällskapet,
Suburban Knight,
a-ha,
Procol Harum,
The Gun Club,
The Doobie Brothers,
Marvin Gaye,
The Gap Band,
Black Pus,
Ultimate Spinach,
Negative Approach,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
A Certain Ratio,
New Order,
Curtis Mayfield,
Mandrill,
Alice Coltrane,
Goldenarms,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter and Kerry,
Main Source,
Juan Atkins,
Rekid,
Babytalk,
The Fugs,
Q and Not U,
Jimmy McGriff,
Soft Cell,
Chris Corsano,
June of 44,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Marmalade,
Skarface,
Bad Manners,
Pylon,
Byron Stingily,
Heaven 17,
Nas,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oneida,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Bill Near,
The Last Poets,
Roger Hodgson,
In Retrospect,
The Angels of Light,
Sister Nancy,
Scientists,
The Divine Comedy,
E-Dancer,
Technova,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Maleditus Sound,
Pharoah Sanders,
Brick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.