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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Glasgow.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Delon & Dalcan to the crunk 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 Robert Wyatt. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Modern Lovers,
Sällskapet,
Fatback Band,
R.M.O.,
Angry Samoans,
Ohio Players,
Interpol,
Dark Day,
Don Cherry,
Hardrive,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lee Hazlewood,
Yaz,
The Smoke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Roxette,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Stereo Dub,
CMW,
Dorothy Ashby,
A Certain Ratio,
Pere Ubu,
Wally Richardson,
Marcia Griffiths,
Anakelly,
Radio Birdman,
The Sonics,
The Gap Band,
Josef K,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Scott Walker,
The Raincoats,
Accadde A,
Boredoms,
Urselle,
Sam Rivers,
Throbbing Gristle,
Warren Ellis,
Ultra Naté,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield,
Althea and Donna,
The Associates,
Chris & Cosey,
The Fall,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hot Snakes,
Lungfish,
Banda Bassotti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Barracudas,
Intrusion,
Todd Rundgren,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantytec,
Stetsasonic,
The Divine Comedy,
Johnny Clarke,
The Slits,
Gerry Rafferty,
Skaos,
The Seeds,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.