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 Samoa and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 Beijing and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Youth Brigade to the dance 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 The Sound. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Yusef Lateef,
Carl Craig,
Joe Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
Anakelly,
A Certain Ratio,
The Divine Comedy,
The Young Rascals,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rotary Connection,
Tres Demented,
Neil Young,
The Monks,
Moby Grape,
Chris & Cosey,
Sam Rivers,
Electric Prunes,
Fugazi,
48th St. Collective,
The Dirtbombs,
Monks,
ABBA,
The Toasters,
Agitation Free,
The Evens,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Hood,
MC5,
The Names,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-102,
Shuggie Otis,
Sound Behaviour,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Can,
This Heat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
David Axelrod,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Crash Course in Science,
Public Enemy,
Roger Hodgson,
Interpol,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Parry Music,
Ornette Coleman,
Kayak,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Motions,
Ten City,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
EPMD,
Sexual Harrassment,
Janne Schatter,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines, Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines.
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.