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 Sudan and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 R.M.O. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Stockholm Monsters. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a A Flock of Seagulls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Real Kids,
Erasure,
Quantec,
OOIOO,
Maurizio,
The Skatalites,
Alice Coltrane,
The American Breed,
Colin Newman,
The Divine Comedy,
Bad Manners,
Thompson Twins,
Funkadelic,
Derrick Morgan,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultravox,
The Beau Brummels,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cal Tjader,
Index,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thee Headcoats,
The Names,
MC5,
Sarah Menescal,
Trumans Water,
The New Christs,
Icehouse,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Section 25,
Black Moon,
The Golliwogs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Magma,
Bobby Byrd,
The United States of America,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sex Pistols,
Aaron Thompson,
Nas,
Bluetip,
Minnie Riperton,
Blancmange,
Johnny Osbourne,
Outsiders,
A Certain Ratio,
Whodini,
UT,
The Birthday Party,
Don Cherry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tres Demented,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
June of 44,
One Last Wish,
The Mummies,
In Retrospect,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.