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 Andorra and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Martian to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
the Slits,
Skarface,
Camberwell Now,
Pantaleimon,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Porter Ricks,
Sex Pistols,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barbara Tucker,
Bush Tetras,
Lou Reed,
The Saints,
Pere Ubu,
Bad Manners,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Electric Prunes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Amazonics,
The Skatalites,
Absolute Body Control,
Dave Gahan,
Sound Behaviour,
Lyres,
Eve St. Jones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Grauzone,
Black Bananas,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris & Cosey,
Blancmange,
Circle Jerks,
Fela Kuti,
Pet Shop Boys,
Freddie Wadling,
the Fania All-Stars,
Byron Stingily,
the Bar-Kays,
Joensuu 1685,
Cheater Slicks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Searchers,
Letta Mbulu,
Supertramp,
The Selecter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harry Pussy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eurythmics,
Yazoo,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amon Düül,
Pantytec,
Anthony Braxton,
The Grass Roots,
Unwound,
Donald Byrd,
Severed Heads,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.