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 Marshall Islands and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pharoah Sanders to the grime kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
The Black Dice,
Crooked Eye,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Grey Daturas,
Shoche,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Moleskins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Star Department,
Marvin Gaye,
Slave,
Con Funk Shun,
Letta Mbulu,
Porter Ricks,
Rosa Yemen,
The Toasters,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Eddi Front,
Quadrant,
The Angels of Light,
Skarface,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Erasure,
Ten City,
Roger Hodgson,
Livin' Joy,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
New Age Steppers,
John Coltrane,
Funkadelic,
AZ,
Angry Samoans,
Harmonia,
Ossler,
The Fortunes,
Scrapy,
Little Man,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
The Offenders,
Stiv Bators,
Fad Gadget,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox,
Black Bananas,
Von Mondo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Average White Band,
Drive Like Jehu,
Matthew Bourne,
The Sound,
Reuben Wilson,
Deadbeat,
Sparks,
The Moody Blues,
Suicide,
The Saints,
Man Parrish,
Eric B and Rakim,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.