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 Macedonia and from Lille.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Milan.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the grunge 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a PIL record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
The Sound,
The Fuzztones,
Sam Rivers,
La Düsseldorf,
Yellowson,
Eli Mardock,
Bobby Byrd,
Mars,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Make Up,
Bobbi Humphrey,
This Heat,
Urselle,
Cecil Taylor,
Pantaleimon,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Oneida,
Andrew Hill,
Unwound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mo-Dettes,
The American Breed,
The Gap Band,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Moss Icon,
Camouflage,
Groovy Waters,
The Techniques,
Scratch Acid,
Pierre Henry,
China Crisis,
Arthur Verocai,
Eve St. Jones,
Sonic Youth,
Cymande,
Robert Görl,
Nick Fraelich,
Franke,
Quadrant,
Roy Ayers,
Bluetip,
Lungfish,
Can,
Youth Brigade,
The Five Americans,
L. Decosne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Shoche,
Television Personalities,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cameo,
Von Mondo,
The Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Motions,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.