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 Zimbabwe and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 ABBA to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grauzone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Warsaw,
Ponytail,
Urselle,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Spoonie Gee,
Leonard Cohen,
Aural Exciters,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Shoche,
the Swans,
The Selecter,
Porter Ricks,
Inner City,
Duran Duran,
Anthony Braxton,
Kas Product,
Agent Orange,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sound,
Skriet,
Throbbing Gristle,
One Last Wish,
Can,
Lucky Dragons,
Faraquet,
Eve St. Jones,
Lakeside,
Soft Machine,
World's Most,
Mo-Dettes,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Young Rascals,
the Normal,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pulsallama,
The Monks,
the Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Remains,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quando Quango,
Siglo XX,
Amazonics,
Banda Bassotti,
Chris Corsano,
Goldenarms,
Yazoo,
Delon & Dalcan,
10cc,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Womack,
Deadbeat,
Adolescents,
Hasil Adkins,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Michelle Simonal,
Andrew Hill,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.