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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Rosa Yemen to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Young Marble Giants. All the underground hits.
All The Knickerbockers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a güiro 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 organ and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Quadrant,
Cybotron,
Idris Muhammad,
The Zeros,
Terrestrial Tones,
Godley & Creme,
The Golliwogs,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Popol Vuh,
Funkadelic,
Mr. Review,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soulsonic Force,
Adolescents,
The Motions,
Kenny Larkin,
the Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Roxy Music,
Mary Jane Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Matthew Bourne,
La Düsseldorf,
Pere Ubu,
Marine Girls,
Thee Headcoats,
The Monochrome Set,
New Age Steppers,
Gregory Isaacs,
X-102,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun Ra,
The Electric Prunes,
Black Bananas,
U.S. Maple,
Von Mondo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
Gastr Del Sol,
Jesper Dahlback,
Newcleus,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
AZ,
Khruangbin,
Lower 48,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barbara Tucker,
Isaac Hayes,
Los Fastidios,
Basic Channel,
Sexual Harrassment,
Dark Day,
Sun City Girls,
Deakin,
The Toasters,
Shuggie Otis,
June Days,
Au Pairs,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.