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 Latvia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Chris Corsano 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Bobby Sherman,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Oneida,
Clear Light,
Sex Pistols,
Metal Thangz,
The Birthday Party,
Blancmange,
Scion,
Kenny Larkin,
The Knickerbockers,
Michelle Simonal,
kango's stein massive,
Glenn Branca,
Robert Wyatt,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vladislav Delay,
Television,
Alphaville,
The Remains,
The Vogues,
The Pretty Things,
The Fire Engines,
Cybotron,
Infiniti,
Barrington Levy,
Stetsasonic,
The Wake,
The Velvet Underground,
Ronnie Foster,
The Standells,
The Grass Roots,
Surgeon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Minnie Riperton,
Harry Pussy,
Matthew Bourne,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Eric Copeland,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacques Brel,
Ultravox,
Pantaleimon,
Eyeless In Gaza,
JFA,
LL Cool J,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Minny Pops,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Matthew Halsall,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Section 25,
The Red Krayola,
Nils Olav,
Nas,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.