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 India and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 Holger Czukay 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 The Angels of Light to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Harpers Bizarre tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Rites of Spring,
Rotary Connection,
The Real Kids,
Das Ding,
Rufus Thomas,
Quadrant,
Cybotron,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Second Layer,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Modern Lovers,
Organ,
Aural Exciters,
Brand Nubian,
Morten Harket,
Trumans Water,
Faraquet,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal,
Shuggie Otis,
Surgeon,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Angry Samoans,
Massinfluence,
The Standells,
This Heat,
The Martian,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Amon Düül II,
Nico,
Neu!,
CMW,
Tropical Tobacco,
Adolescents,
Bill Near,
The Sound,
The Zeros,
The Cramps,
Electric Prunes,
Basic Channel,
Monolake,
Nas,
MDC,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Slits,
The Fugs,
Yazoo,
Sound Behaviour,
Marmalade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Golliwogs,
Silicon Teens,
Magazine,
Sarah Menescal,
X-101,
Dark Day,
Hoover,
Sex Pistols,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band, Lafayette Afro Rock Band.
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.