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 Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Manila.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Buckinghams to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Hoover,
Bauhaus,
The Martian,
Roger Hodgson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Radio Birdman,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kas Product,
Jeff Mills,
Soulsonic Force,
The Tremeloes,
New Order,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
Accadde A,
The Smiths,
The Fortunes,
Visage,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Roxette,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fatback Band,
Fat Boys,
Quantec,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Drexciya,
Moss Icon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Kinks,
The Red Krayola,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Moleskins,
Flash Fearless,
New York Dolls,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
June Days,
Ponytail,
Skaos,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Lebanon Hanover,
Loose Ends,
Oneida,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Robert Wyatt,
Urselle,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skriet,
The Remains,
Shuggie Otis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
Bush Tetras,
Ohio Players,
La Düsseldorf,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.