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 Lesotho and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the funk 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vaughan Mason & Crew record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Godley & Creme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Scan 7,
John Foxx,
Harry Pussy,
Roger Hodgson,
Clear Light,
The Searchers,
Unwound,
Bobby Byrd,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Moon,
ABC,
The Mummies,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Barrington Levy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Buzzcocks,
Nik Kershaw,
Q and Not U,
Funky Four + One,
Bauhaus,
L. Decosne,
Warsaw,
Erasure,
Monks,
Tim Buckley,
Rites of Spring,
Bang On A Can,
Suburban Knight,
Donald Byrd,
Kerri Chandler,
Scott Walker,
Electric Prunes,
John Cale,
Bootsy Collins,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pet Shop Boys,
Reuben Wilson,
Chrome,
Barclay James Harvest,
Alice Coltrane,
F. McDonald,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Moebius,
Qualms,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ice-T,
Althea and Donna,
Hasil Adkins,
Livin' Joy,
10cc,
Whodini,
Cecil Taylor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Sällskapet,
Sister Nancy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABBA,
Reagan Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.