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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cluster. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an oboe and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kool Moe Dee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Little Man,
Beasts of Bourbon,
June Days,
The Stooges,
June of 44,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gong,
The Gladiators,
T.S.O.L.,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bang On A Can,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
H. Thieme,
Unrelated Segments,
Cabaret Voltaire,
8 Eyed Spy,
Grauzone,
The New Christs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pulsallama,
Barbara Tucker,
Thee Headcoats,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pylon,
Blossom Toes,
Crash Course in Science,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Electric Prunes,
Duran Duran,
Curtis Mayfield,
Isaac Hayes,
New Age Steppers,
Yazoo,
The Monochrome Set,
Laurel Aitken,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marc Almond,
Eric Dolphy,
Steve Hackett,
Yusef Lateef,
OOIOO,
Scan 7,
Aswad,
Chrome,
Barrington Levy,
Procol Harum,
Hashim,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tom Boy,
Niagra,
Iggy Pop,
Talk Talk,
Underground Resistance,
Man Parrish,
Eric Copeland,
Stockholm Monsters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick Morgan,
Adolescents,
Lightning Bolt,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.