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 Libya and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Dead C 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Cybotron,
The Star Department,
Ralphi Rosario,
June of 44,
The Fugs,
Fluxion,
Tom Boy,
Junior Murvin,
Nik Kershaw,
Tommy Roe,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Hood,
The Vogues,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Tim Buckley,
Franke,
Scion,
Patti Smith,
Erasure,
Mad Mike,
Marc Almond,
Colin Newman,
Porter Ricks,
Newcleus,
Mars,
the Association,
Loose Ends,
The Velvet Underground,
Grauzone,
Bang On A Can,
Deakin,
Lou Christie,
Henry Cow,
Faust,
Hoover,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Sex Pistols,
The Stooges,
Swans,
Fat Boys,
Graham Central Station,
the Human League,
Maleditus Sound,
Neu!,
Stetsasonic,
Charles Mingus,
Average White Band,
Qualms,
Al Stewart,
Aaron Thompson,
Lou Reed,
Brothers Johnson,
Swell Maps,
Skriet,
Model 500,
Quadrant,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Roger Hodgson,
Duran Duran,
Buzzcocks,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Nas,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.