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 Uganda and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe 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 Subhumans to the jazz 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 Bill Wells. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Litter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
The Barracudas,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Yellowson,
F. McDonald,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Black Flag,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Lynne,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
June of 44,
Cecil Taylor,
Monks,
Electric Prunes,
the Human League,
Negative Approach,
The Residents,
Quadrant,
Organ,
Bluetip,
Alison Limerick,
Marmalade,
Jandek,
The Trojans,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deepchord,
The Gladiators,
Main Source,
Archie Shepp,
The Vogues,
Eli Mardock,
The Gories,
Lungfish,
Second Layer,
OOIOO,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Vladislav Delay,
Scion,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
Urselle,
The Alarm Clocks,
Brick,
The Zeros,
Kaleidoscope,
Soft Machine,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Smiths,
Deadbeat,
Lalann,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Magma,
Lindisfarne,
Kas Product,
Liliput,
Susan Cadogan,
Minutemen,
Skarface,
Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran, Duran Duran.
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.