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 Venezuela and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 clarinet 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 Suburban Knight to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Oppenheimer Analysis. All the underground hits.
All Kango’s Stein Massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Dolphy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispy Ambulance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Tremeloes,
FM Einheit,
Sparks,
Peter and Kerry,
Flipper,
Barry Ungar,
Quadrant,
Nick Fraelich,
Silicon Teens,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Isaac Hayes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Searchers,
Camouflage,
DJ Style,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Slave,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Human League,
Sound Behaviour,
June Days,
Monks,
Ponytail,
The Offenders,
Urselle,
Warsaw,
Wolf Eyes,
The Happenings,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suicide,
Eurythmics,
The Remains,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Q and Not U,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soulsonic Force,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
Reagan Youth,
Slick Rick,
Yazoo,
The New Christs,
Faust,
Charles Mingus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Moleskins,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Infiniti,
Michelle Simonal,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Trojans,
Jimmy McGriff,
Suburban Knight,
China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis, China Crisis.
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.