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 Bulgaria and from Bremen.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Spandau Ballet to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Tommy Roe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar 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 Cramps,
DNA,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Negative Approach,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bill Wells,
Parry Music,
Scrapy,
Livin' Joy,
The Sound,
The Sonics,
Juan Atkins,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bob Dylan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Last Poets,
Moebius,
Pantytec,
The Human League,
Thompson Twins,
Lakeside,
Patti Smith,
The Leaves,
Trumans Water,
Mandrill,
Wally Richardson,
The Smiths,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Stiv Bators,
The Busters,
Danielle Patucci,
Dennis Brown,
Electric Prunes,
In Retrospect,
The Five Americans,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Remains,
The Young Rascals,
The Dirtbombs,
Neu!,
Blossom Toes,
Agitation Free,
Altered Images,
Skriet,
Eric Dolphy,
The Beau Brummels,
OOIOO,
Cecil Taylor,
John Coltrane,
Gang Green,
The Doors,
Crispian St. Peters,
Erasure,
Funky Four + One,
Minutemen,
Clear Light,
Khruangbin,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.