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 Kuwait and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Darondo to the grime 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aural Exciters,
Ultravox,
Graham Central Station,
The Monochrome Set,
T. Rex,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Index,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Interpol,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Dark Day,
The Monks,
Crash Course in Science,
the Normal,
Ultra Naté,
Man Eating Sloth,
Oblivians,
Model 500,
Saccharine Trust,
Khruangbin,
Siglo XX,
Don Cherry,
The Toasters,
Amon Düül II,
Yaz,
Flamin' Groovies,
Harmonia,
Franke,
Howard Jones,
The Gap Band,
The Shadows of Knight,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Trumans Water,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Index,
Soft Machine,
Lower 48,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed,
The Blues Magoos,
The Kinks,
Bang On A Can,
Mary Jane Girls,
H. Thieme,
Jerry's Kids,
Junior Murvin,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Davy DMX,
Second Layer,
The Mummies,
The Durutti Column,
Ornette Coleman,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Curtis Mayfield,
Infiniti,
The Flesh Eaters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
LL Cool J,
Swell Maps,
the Slits,
Chris Corsano,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.