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 Suriname and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the oboe 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 Gang Green to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cure record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scott Walker,
Underground Resistance,
The Motions,
Wally Richardson,
Gichy Dan,
Maleditus Sound,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sam Rivers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Q and Not U,
Alton Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Names,
Harmonia,
Loose Ends,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Associates,
The Raincoats,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Mojo Men,
Steve Hackett,
Livin' Joy,
Japan,
Con Funk Shun,
Dorothy Ashby,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Motorama,
PIL,
Ossler,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
ABC,
Model 500,
Electric Prunes,
Hasil Adkins,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Slits,
Marcia Griffiths,
Nick Fraelich,
Skaos,
Alice Coltrane,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Scientists,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nation of Ulysses,
Jimmy McGriff,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Gories,
Guru Guru,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
Au Pairs,
Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio, Toni Rubio.
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.