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 Albania and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Skriet to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All The Royal Family And The Poor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Youth Brigade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Raincoats,
Spandau Ballet,
Second Layer,
Eve St. Jones,
The J.B.'s,
Pierre Henry,
The Smoke,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Qualms,
Animal Collective,
Eddi Front,
Pet Shop Boys,
Piero Umiliani,
T. Rex,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Five Americans,
Pantaleimon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Outsiders,
Blancmange,
OOIOO,
Monks,
Heaven 17,
Wally Richardson,
Mad Mike,
The Fire Engines,
The Associates,
Michelle Simonal,
Radio Birdman,
The Alarm Clocks,
Cecil Taylor,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Jacques Brel,
Terry Callier,
The Victims,
David McCallum,
The Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ossler,
Panda Bear,
Echospace,
Gong,
The Fugs,
The Tremeloes,
The Kinks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Howard Jones,
The Vogues,
The Real Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
LL Cool J,
Judy Mowatt,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.