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 Bangladesh and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sam Rivers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Michelle Simonal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Smog,
Clear Light,
Brothers Johnson,
Roy Ayers,
The Evens,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Girls At Our Best!,
JFA,
Black Sheep,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Janne Schatter,
In Retrospect,
Drexciya,
Yellowson,
The Dave Clark Five,
Isaac Hayes,
Ralphi Rosario,
Camberwell Now,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Zero Boys,
Dead Boys,
AZ,
Morten Harket,
Jesper Dahlback,
DJ Style,
Goldenarms,
Mo-Dettes,
The Pop Group,
Eddi Front,
The Count Five,
Junior Murvin,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stereo Dub,
Royal Trux,
Kenny Larkin,
The Dirtbombs,
Panda Bear,
The Music Machine,
The Slackers,
Lindisfarne,
Tim Buckley,
Lakeside,
Altered Images,
Steve Hackett,
FM Einheit,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Smoke,
Matthew Bourne,
DNA,
The Motions,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dave Gahan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Toasters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Zapp,
Fad Gadget,
Little Man,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare,
Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four, Gang of Four.
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.