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 Austria and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 The Raincoats to the punk 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 Sam Rivers. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Dark Day,
Wolf Eyes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Eric Copeland,
This Heat,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Babytalk,
Accadde A,
T.S.O.L.,
Young Marble Giants,
Fad Gadget,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Stetsasonic,
Siglo XX,
Supertramp,
Lungfish,
Derrick Morgan,
the Soft Cell,
Spandau Ballet,
Sparks,
Silicon Teens,
DJ Style,
Chris & Cosey,
Big Daddy Kane,
Clear Light,
LL Cool J,
Theoretical Girls,
Nick Fraelich,
Con Funk Shun,
JFA,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Freddie Wadling,
The Names,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Underground Resistance,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Pop Group,
Ossler,
Ice-T,
Pulsallama,
Cal Tjader,
Lindisfarne,
Drexciya,
Model 500,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Wells,
Zapp,
Yaz,
Barrington Levy,
Ten City,
Au Pairs,
Man Parrish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Schoolly D,
Swell Maps,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.