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 St Lucia and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doors record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doors,
Minnie Riperton,
Niagra,
Lower 48,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
Gang Starr,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fat Boys,
Nils Olav,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scratch Acid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Symarip,
Crash Course in Science,
Crooked Eye,
Throbbing Gristle,
PIL,
Tom Boy,
Gang Green,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Japan,
The Invisible,
Kurtis Blow,
Gong,
Glenn Branca,
Steve Hackett,
Von Mondo,
The Fugs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Eli Mardock,
Vladislav Delay,
Tubeway Army,
Don Cherry,
Monks,
Mark Hollis,
Tommy Roe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Robert Görl,
Bobby Womack,
The Toasters,
Nirvana,
Section 25,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
Yaz,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Zapp,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
Yusef Lateef,
The Tremeloes,
Danielle Patucci,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Alton Ellis,
Delon & Dalcan,
Slick Rick,
Tim Buckley,
The Black Dice,
Visage,
Silicon Teens,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.