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 Ghana and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Young Marble Giants to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rod Modell 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Massinfluence,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
PIL,
Main Source,
Rufus Thomas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cheater Slicks,
Q and Not U,
Monks,
Kayak,
Johnny Clarke,
David Bowie,
Joensuu 1685,
The Last Poets,
Radiohead,
Ralphi Rosario,
Crispian St. Peters,
Nik Kershaw,
Guru Guru,
AZ,
Bill Wells,
Patti Smith,
Essential Logic,
Nirvana,
Mr. Review,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Quando Quango,
Scott Walker,
Rakim,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Barry Ungar,
Index,
Flash Fearless,
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
Ten City,
Fat Boys,
Minny Pops,
Sandy B,
Angry Samoans,
Wings,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Jawbox,
Kas Product,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sarah Menescal,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
cv313,
Au Pairs,
Janne Schatter,
Flipper,
David Axelrod,
Chrome,
John Cale,
Joey Negro,
Popol Vuh,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.