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 Comoros and from Salvador.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marc Almond to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mark Hollis. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a guitar 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 snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Crooked Eye,
In Retrospect,
Tim Buckley,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Invisible,
Yaz,
Crash Course in Science,
Metal Thangz,
Laurel Aitken,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
F. McDonald,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Hardrive,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Deakin,
OOIOO,
B.T. Express,
The Gladiators,
Donny Hathaway,
The Skatalites,
Barrington Levy,
Archie Shepp,
The Grass Roots,
Todd Terry,
cv313,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pussy Galore,
Saccharine Trust,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cowsills,
Pulsallama,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Leaves,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
A Certain Ratio,
Bronski Beat,
Graham Central Station,
Rekid,
June Days,
The Selecter,
Supertramp,
Tears for Fears,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The United States of America,
Smog,
Agitation Free,
DJ Style,
DNA,
Tomorrow,
Minor Threat,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Human League,
John Foxx,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Busters,
Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions, Boogie Down Productions.
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.