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 Benin and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Mars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Wake,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Wally Richardson,
The Raincoats,
The Cure,
Kas Product,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Sugar Minott,
Brick,
Whodini,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Selecter,
Rakim,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Fugazi,
Young Marble Giants,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Neon Judgement,
Scrapy,
T.S.O.L.,
Cybotron,
Panda Bear,
Todd Terry,
Susan Cadogan,
The Skatalites,
The Tremeloes,
John Holt,
The Red Krayola,
Barry Ungar,
Visage,
In Retrospect,
Tres Demented,
Crime,
Man Parrish,
Funkadelic,
Erykah Badu,
Eurythmics,
Agent Orange,
The Trojans,
Popol Vuh,
Mark Hollis,
The Kinks,
Jawbox,
Ralphi Rosario,
Davy DMX,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jacques Brel,
The Sound,
Aswad,
the Normal,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Nirvana,
Mantronix,
Slave,
Unrelated Segments,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.