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 Sierra Leone and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 The Detroit Cobras to the crunk 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 Amon Düül. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hoover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
H. Thieme,
Sandy B,
A Certain Ratio,
Absolute Body Control,
Rotary Connection,
The J.B.'s,
June Days,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Slits,
UT,
Half Japanese,
the Slits,
Flamin' Groovies,
Schoolly D,
Animal Collective,
Archie Shepp,
The Mojo Men,
Hashim,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
John Lydon,
Connie Case,
Crispian St. Peters,
Josef K,
Sound Behaviour,
Sister Nancy,
Thompson Twins,
John Cale,
Magazine,
Dual Sessions,
48th St. Collective,
Hardrive,
X-101,
Arthur Verocai,
The Raincoats,
Minor Threat,
Technova,
Camouflage,
Sex Pistols,
Delon & Dalcan,
Eli Mardock,
Parry Music,
David Bowie,
John Coltrane,
Lungfish,
Amon Düül II,
Underground Resistance,
Johnny Clarke,
Minny Pops,
Joyce Sims,
Jeff Lynne,
Yellowson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Gories,
The Invisible,
Moebius,
The Mummies,
Make Up,
Soulsonic Force,
Black Bananas,
X-Ray Spex,
The Tremeloes,
Tubeway Army,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.