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 Benin and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Nick Fraelich to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Q65,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Wasted Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Buckinghams,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Au Pairs,
The Sound,
Albert Ayler,
CMW,
ABBA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Outsiders,
The Five Americans,
Bill Near,
Rakim,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Max Romeo,
Duran Duran,
T. Rex,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crash Course in Science,
Alphaville,
Surgeon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Absolute Body Control,
Andrew Hill,
Wolf Eyes,
Jeff Lynne,
Peter and Kerry,
Kayak,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Zero Boys,
Joy Division,
Circle Jerks,
Mandrill,
Los Fastidios,
Joey Negro,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Toasters,
New Order,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Davy DMX,
Bush Tetras,
Blancmange,
cv313,
the Sonics,
Model 500,
Bobby Sherman,
The J.B.'s,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Excepter,
Moby Grape,
the Bar-Kays,
Lalann,
Grauzone,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Boz Scaggs,
Nick Fraelich,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.