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 Mozambique and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Shanghai.
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 David Bowie 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 Cowsills to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Angels of Light tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
The Smiths,
David McCallum,
Trumans Water,
Fort Wilson Riot,
FM Einheit,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
U.S. Maple,
John Holt,
Skaos,
Judy Mowatt,
Roy Ayers,
Jacques Brel,
The Golliwogs,
Eddi Front,
Godley & Creme,
Newcleus,
The Grass Roots,
Basic Channel,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Drexciya,
The Standells,
Boz Scaggs,
Sun Ra,
Pere Ubu,
Interpol,
This Heat,
The Searchers,
Arthur Verocai,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Trojans,
James White and The Blacks,
Al Stewart,
Dawn Penn,
Agent Orange,
Supertramp,
Freddie Wadling,
PIL,
Patti Smith,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Joy Division,
Donny Hathaway,
cv313,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
The Neon Judgement,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Monks,
Camberwell Now,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gong,
Malaria!,
Bob Dylan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Parry Music,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.