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 Maldives and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Matthew Bourne to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Divine Comedy. All the underground hits.
All UT tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roger Hodgson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Saints,
Jawbox,
Camberwell Now,
Chrome,
Ituana,
Nico,
Michelle Simonal,
The Raincoats,
The Red Krayola,
Saccharine Trust,
Henry Cow,
Silicon Teens,
The Tremeloes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kaleidoscope,
Gichy Dan,
Ice-T,
Moebius,
Todd Terry,
Bob Dylan,
Schoolly D,
Albert Ayler,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalo Schifrin,
L. Decosne,
Country Teasers,
Tears for Fears,
The Busters,
The Mojo Men,
Minny Pops,
The Pretty Things,
Wings,
Marcia Griffiths,
Masters at Work,
The Five Americans,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang of Four,
Eric Copeland,
The Durutti Column,
Cymande,
The Smiths,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kurtis Blow,
Severed Heads,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Chris & Cosey,
The Dave Clark Five,
Archie Shepp,
Urselle,
Joyce Sims,
Sexual Harrassment,
Hot Snakes,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Kevin Saunderson,
Metal Thangz,
Bauhaus,
Nick Fraelich,
Procol Harum,
Monks,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.