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 Bangladesh and from Delhi.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Faraquet 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 10cc. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Nas,
Nick Fraelich,
The Buckinghams,
Yellowson,
Joe Smooth,
Public Enemy,
Agent Orange,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Fluxion,
Quadrant,
Rosa Yemen,
Ohio Players,
Janne Schatter,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Liliput,
Mark Hollis,
Letta Mbulu,
Hardrive,
Black Bananas,
The Monochrome Set,
Metal Thangz,
Dennis Brown,
Brick,
Don Cherry,
The Red Krayola,
Parry Music,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The American Breed,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Sound,
Todd Rundgren,
Gang Gang Dance,
Glenn Branca,
Icehouse,
Dorothy Ashby,
Robert Hood,
The Fuzztones,
The Human League,
Tomorrow,
Bluetip,
Suburban Knight,
Sister Nancy,
Saccharine Trust,
Graham Central Station,
Terry Callier,
Tim Buckley,
Trumans Water,
Rekid,
Spoonie Gee,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Wasted Youth,
Barry Ungar,
Pet Shop Boys,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Arab on Radar,
Barbara Tucker,
The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats, The Raincoats.
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.