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 Ivory Coast and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tehran.
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 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 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 Albert Ayler to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 ABC. All the underground hits.
All Matthew Halsall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lalo Schifrin,
The Last Poets,
Bob Dylan,
Talk Talk,
Dark Day,
Tomorrow,
Urselle,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Misunderstood,
Slave,
Neu!,
Massinfluence,
Au Pairs,
Spandau Ballet,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Martian,
Qualms,
Alton Ellis,
Easy Going,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deadbeat,
Malaria!,
Marine Girls,
Boz Scaggs,
The Raincoats,
Minutemen,
Eden Ahbez,
Porter Ricks,
Ultravox,
Neil Young,
Lakeside,
The Monks,
The Beau Brummels,
The Black Dice,
Joey Negro,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
New Age Steppers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
T.S.O.L.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Peter & Gordon,
The Divine Comedy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Little Man,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marmalade,
Sight & Sound,
Kayak,
Scion,
Essential Logic,
The Saints,
L. Decosne,
Roxette,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
The Flesh Eaters,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.