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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 clarinet 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 The Kinks to the crunk 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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Motorama,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oblivians,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Silicon Teens,
Chrome,
John Lydon,
Max Romeo,
Hoover,
Jerry's Kids,
Monks,
Cymande,
The Detroit Cobras,
Erykah Badu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Tommy Roe,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mummies,
Porter Ricks,
Pylon,
10cc,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Fall,
Ultra Naté,
Grey Daturas,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Icehouse,
Qualms,
The Residents,
Throbbing Gristle,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jeff Lynne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Gap Band,
Ituana,
AZ,
The Selecter,
Vladislav Delay,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Soul II Soul,
Gang of Four,
the Normal,
Trumans Water,
Sun City Girls,
Model 500,
U.S. Maple,
The Monochrome Set,
Q and Not U,
Moss Icon,
Fluxion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Girls At Our Best!,
Byron Stingily,
One Last Wish,
Crooked Eye,
Dennis Brown,
The Gories,
Barrington Levy,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Dark Day,
Lalann,
Aswad, Aswad, Aswad, Aswad.
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.