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 Uzbekistan and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Lyon.
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 Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Angels of Light to the crunk 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Bobbi Humphrey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flash Fearless record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
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,
Deepchord,
Davy DMX,
Lebanon Hanover,
Minor Threat,
The Techniques,
Fugazi,
Donald Byrd,
Cheater Slicks,
Unrelated Segments,
Shuggie Otis,
Joe Finger,
Depeche Mode,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Teasers,
Minny Pops,
Jacques Brel,
Lalann,
The Cosmic Jokers,
China Crisis,
The Sound,
MDC,
Gong,
The Monks,
Bush Tetras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cameo,
The Slits,
One Last Wish,
Magazine,
Donny Hathaway,
Zapp,
AZ,
Soft Machine,
Pierre Henry,
The Flesh Eaters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Monochrome Set,
X-Ray Spex,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Barry Ungar,
The Slackers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fear,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Womack,
Eddi Front,
Pet Shop Boys,
Underground Resistance,
Wally Richardson,
Massinfluence,
Rites of Spring,
Judy Mowatt,
Minnie Riperton,
Harry Pussy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Hood,
Hoover,
The Birthday Party,
D'Angelo,
June Days,
Rod Modell,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.