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 Swaziland and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Al Stewart tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro 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?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Goldenarms,
Oblivians,
ABBA,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Shadows of Knight,
Swans,
Half Japanese,
ABC,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Near,
Fad Gadget,
Talk Talk,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grauzone,
Dawn Penn,
Deadbeat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Oneida,
Glenn Branca,
Royal Trux,
Mandrill,
The Cowsills,
The Dirtbombs,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Dead C,
Loose Ends,
Sarah Menescal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Animal Collective,
Pole,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Au Pairs,
Brick,
Ohio Players,
Rakim,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Hardrive,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mummies,
Howard Jones,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Moon,
Ten City,
The Zeros,
Minutemen,
Idris Muhammad,
Judy Mowatt,
Rod Modell,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
Boz Scaggs,
Eve St. Jones,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.