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 Colombia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 James White and The Blacks to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sixth Finger. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Quando Quango record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
Lower 48,
Depeche Mode,
The Names,
Donny Hathaway,
Dead Boys,
Avey Tare,
Procol Harum,
The Birthday Party,
Fat Boys,
Rhythm & Sound,
Harmonia,
X-101,
Lalann,
Godley & Creme,
Pagans,
Roxette,
The New Christs,
Black Flag,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jacob Miller,
The Doors,
Sonny Sharrock,
Piero Umiliani,
Mars,
Isaac Hayes,
Chris & Cosey,
Slick Rick,
Monolake,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Howard Jones,
Aloha Tigers,
EPMD,
The Durutti Column,
kango's stein massive,
Neu!,
OOIOO,
48th St. Collective,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Lightning Bolt,
Organ,
Rakim,
Ultra Naté,
Desert Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Drexciya,
Gang Starr,
Tres Demented,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Human League,
Sight & Sound,
Television,
T.S.O.L.,
Bootsy Collins,
Infiniti,
Mr. Review,
Unrelated Segments,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Tears for Fears,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.