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 Poland and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the crunk 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 Albert Ayler. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gastr Del Sol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacques Brel,
Ornette Coleman,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Hoover,
The Music Machine,
Drive Like Jehu,
Grey Daturas,
Rapeman,
Anakelly,
Boz Scaggs,
Kerri Chandler,
Soul II Soul,
Eric Copeland,
Todd Terry,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Busters,
Black Moon,
Marvin Gaye,
Gerry Rafferty,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
Pantaleimon,
Minny Pops,
H. Thieme,
Nick Fraelich,
Harry Pussy,
Yazoo,
Symarip,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sarah Menescal,
Pussy Galore,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Saints,
the Bar-Kays,
Matthew Halsall,
The Mojo Men,
The Sound,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Tres Demented,
Dennis Brown,
Crooked Eye,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Womack,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Associates,
Avey Tare,
Cal Tjader,
Wolf Eyes,
Minutemen,
Bobby Sherman,
Hasil Adkins,
Quantec,
Country Teasers,
The Walker Brothers,
Howard Jones,
Steve Hackett,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day, It's A Beautiful Day.
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.