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 Angola and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Black Sheep 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Adolescents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
The Stooges,
Dual Sessions,
F. McDonald,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mission of Burma,
Gerry Rafferty,
Delta 5,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Red Krayola,
Danielle Patucci,
Maurizio,
Donny Hathaway,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed,
Camberwell Now,
The Golliwogs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Country Teasers,
The Dirtbombs,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat,
T. Rex,
Ohio Players,
Sonny Sharrock,
the Slits,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Japan,
MDC,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick Morgan,
Faust,
Sister Nancy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Letta Mbulu,
cv313,
Lou Christie,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
June Days,
The Skatalites,
Matthew Halsall,
Das Ding,
Barbara Tucker,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Yellowson,
Junior Murvin,
Michelle Simonal,
Pussy Galore,
The Associates,
The Motions,
Howard Jones,
Wings,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Modern Lovers,
These Immortal Souls,
Blossom Toes,
Harry Pussy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Iggy Pop,
Skriet, Skriet, Skriet, Skriet.
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.