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 New Zealand and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gories record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Symarip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
The Busters,
Kurtis Blow,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Red Krayola,
Boz Scaggs,
Blake Baxter,
Shuggie Otis,
Letta Mbulu,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Five Americans,
The Moleskins,
Graham Central Station,
Pierre Henry,
Suicide,
Surgeon,
The Fuzztones,
Motorama,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sun City Girls,
Fatback Band,
Ultra Naté,
The Litter,
The Blackbyrds,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The New Christs,
Yaz,
Organ,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Almond,
Ronan,
Wolf Eyes,
Sex Pistols,
Chris Corsano,
Essential Logic,
Davy DMX,
Country Teasers,
Clear Light,
Bobby Sherman,
Fela Kuti,
Amon Düül II,
Janne Schatter,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
Black Moon,
Thompson Twins,
The Sound,
The Slits,
Quadrant,
F. McDonald,
The Blues Magoos,
MC5,
Panda Bear,
Robert Wyatt,
Khruangbin,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.