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 New Zealand and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Index to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roy Ayers,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Selecter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Divine Comedy,
David Axelrod,
Arcadia,
Country Teasers,
Duran Duran,
Pagans,
The Index,
Marshall Jefferson,
Marmalade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Max Romeo,
Eric B and Rakim,
Warsaw,
Metal Thangz,
Lou Christie,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
Motorama,
Michelle Simonal,
Patti Smith,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gang Starr,
Loose Ends,
Tres Demented,
K-Klass,
Jeff Lynne,
Kurtis Blow,
Funkadelic,
Gichy Dan,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Slackers,
Slick Rick,
Oblivians,
Ituana,
The Count Five,
Sixth Finger,
Steve Hackett,
The Gories,
Moby Grape,
Los Fastidios,
Erasure,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
The Music Machine,
Ultra Naté,
MC5,
Black Flag,
Graham Central Station,
Don Cherry,
Moebius,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.