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 Samoa and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 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 Mo-Dettes 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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Al Stewart 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angels of Light & Akron/Family record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soft Cell,
Tubeway Army,
Iggy Pop,
The Associates,
Letta Mbulu,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Raincoats,
Half Japanese,
Monolake,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nas,
Eden Ahbez,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
The Human League,
The Flesh Eaters,
Barclay James Harvest,
Henry Cow,
Isaac Hayes,
the Human League,
Todd Rundgren,
Jawbox,
Crooked Eye,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fugs,
Steve Hackett,
Public Enemy,
Donny Hathaway,
Graham Central Station,
the Bar-Kays,
Heaven 17,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Gories,
The Durutti Column,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Reagan Youth,
Hot Snakes,
Swell Maps,
Pulsallama,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Visage,
Nick Fraelich,
Eric Dolphy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Monochrome Set,
Roy Ayers,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
the Germs,
The Trojans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Animal Collective,
The Blues Magoos,
La Düsseldorf,
Arab on Radar,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
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.