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 Slovakia and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide 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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Fania All-Stars to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Basic Channel. All the underground hits.
All Slave tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Joe & The Fish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cal Tjader,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ultimate Spinach,
The J.B.'s,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alphaville,
Slick Rick,
ABBA,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hot Snakes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Pierre Henry,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Suicide,
Jacob Miller,
Sarah Menescal,
Marine Girls,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Aural Exciters,
Soft Cell,
Lou Christie,
Spoonie Gee,
Minnie Riperton,
The Five Americans,
UT,
AZ,
Excepter,
Suburban Knight,
Electric Prunes,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lyres,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Amon Düül II,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
JFA,
Marshall Jefferson,
Joyce Sims,
Bobby Byrd,
The Sonics,
The Victims,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ornette Coleman,
Dark Day,
Shuggie Otis,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Dolphy,
Minor Threat,
The Black Dice,
Gang of Four,
Youth Brigade,
Iggy Pop,
Chris & Cosey,
Royal Trux,
Dave Gahan,
H. Thieme,
Parry Music,
Rod Modell,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.