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 Kiribati and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Duran Duran 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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
David McCallum,
Franke,
Magma,
Alice Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
U.S. Maple,
Charles Mingus,
The Five Americans,
Delta 5,
Von Mondo,
Soul Sonic Force,
H. Thieme,
Archie Shepp,
Lebanon Hanover,
Quando Quango,
Juan Atkins,
PIL,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Youth Brigade,
The Associates,
The Fugs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Avey Tare,
The Evens,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Matthew Halsall,
The Smoke,
Isaac Hayes,
The Cramps,
One Last Wish,
Spoonie Gee,
UT,
Clear Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
Cecil Taylor,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ossler,
Matthew Bourne,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Cale,
Supertramp,
Jacques Brel,
Blake Baxter,
Saccharine Trust,
Quadrant,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Buzzcocks,
Fad Gadget,
Jandek,
Amon Düül,
The Vogues,
Joey Negro,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.