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 Austria and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 F. McDonald to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Curtis Mayfield. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Normal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Yellowson,
Slick Rick,
Unwound,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Los Fastidios,
Colin Newman,
The Knickerbockers,
Procol Harum,
Model 500,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker,
Mantronix,
The Names,
Vainqueur,
The Cowsills,
Deadbeat,
Pagans,
Motorama,
Robert Wyatt,
Glenn Branca,
Excepter,
John Holt,
Amon Düül,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Robert Görl,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gladiators,
FM Einheit,
John Lydon,
a-ha,
Symarip,
Grandmaster Flash,
Joey Negro,
Roxy Music,
Kevin Saunderson,
Jeff Mills,
DJ Style,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rakim,
Barry Ungar,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerrie Biddell,
Schoolly D,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gang Green,
Althea and Donna,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sparks,
Gang of Four,
The Golliwogs,
Lightning Bolt,
A Certain Ratio,
Reagan Youth,
Absolute Body Control,
Bad Manners,
Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis, Alton Ellis.
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.