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 Israel and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Roxy Music to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dorothy Ashby. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skaos 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?
Depeche Mode,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Real Kids,
The Birthday Party,
The Smiths,
The Index,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brothers Johnson,
Tim Buckley,
Brass Construction,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nation of Ulysses,
Shoche,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thee Headcoats,
Throbbing Gristle,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Hood,
Susan Cadogan,
The Raincoats,
John Holt,
Rod Modell,
Rosa Yemen,
a-ha,
Skriet,
Lou Reed,
48th St. Collective,
Icehouse,
Dawn Penn,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Machine,
Wasted Youth,
Little Man,
Monolake,
Audionom,
The Victims,
the Germs,
Animal Collective,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fall,
Theoretical Girls,
Japan,
Black Flag,
Qualms,
LL Cool J,
Swans,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Searchers,
Mantronix,
Rekid,
Youth Brigade,
Marc Almond,
Eric Dolphy,
The United States of America,
Kool Moe Dee,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.