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 Senegal and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Pharoah Sanders to the disco 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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Depeche Mode,
Iggy Pop,
Bill Wells,
X-Ray Spex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kaleidoscope,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Au Pairs,
the Bar-Kays,
Danielle Patucci,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mad Mike,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Das Ding,
Delta 5,
Slave,
The Techniques,
Drexciya,
Jeff Mills,
Steve Hackett,
Reagan Youth,
Skriet,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yazoo,
Surgeon,
Eddi Front,
Bobby Sherman,
Severed Heads,
The Litter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sound Behaviour,
Bill Near,
Magma,
Gang Green,
Chris Corsano,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Searchers,
Vladislav Delay,
Von Mondo,
Kenny Larkin,
Theoretical Girls,
Bronski Beat,
The Motions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Robert Wyatt,
The Buckinghams,
Ralphi Rosario,
David Axelrod,
Josef K,
Essential Logic,
Outsiders,
Ten City,
Black Flag,
The Doobie Brothers,
CMW,
Niagra,
Ice-T,
Agitation Free,
The Cure,
John Coltrane,
Harmonia,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.