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 Senegal and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
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 Robert Görl to the punk 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
CMW,
Gichy Dan,
the Germs,
Amazonics,
Sound Behaviour,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Matthew Bourne,
Infiniti,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
La Düsseldorf,
The Names,
Loose Ends,
Trumans Water,
Ornette Coleman,
Faraquet,
Visage,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gladiators,
Severed Heads,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ken Boothe,
Eden Ahbez,
Absolute Body Control,
The J.B.'s,
Subhumans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Shuggie Otis,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Icehouse,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
The Count Five,
Glambeats Corp.,
Arcadia,
Cecil Taylor,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television,
Henry Cow,
Sparks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
The Monochrome Set,
Dawn Penn,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
Bobby Byrd,
Wally Richardson,
The Birthday Party,
Warren Ellis,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sällskapet,
Cymande,
Blossom Toes,
The Sound,
June Days,
Guru Guru,
Sun Ra,
The Zeros,
The Black Dice,
Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish, Man Parrish.
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.