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 Honduras and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Bobbi Humphrey to the rock 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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Ronnie Foster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Duran Duran,
Tubeway Army,
Mark Hollis,
Jandek,
the Slits,
Oneida,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Monolake,
Franke,
The Gladiators,
Ice-T,
Joyce Sims,
The Searchers,
The Dead C,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Ludus,
The Velvet Underground,
The Names,
Janne Schatter,
Stetsasonic,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
Newcleus,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aloha Tigers,
Bauhaus,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sugar Minott,
Ossler,
the Soft Cell,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marmalade,
Eric B and Rakim,
B.T. Express,
Agent Orange,
R.M.O.,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Warren Ellis,
Radiohead,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Anthony Braxton,
Shoche,
Ultravox,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Bananas,
Slick Rick,
Lightning Bolt,
cv313,
Alice Coltrane,
Yazoo,
New Order,
Junior Murvin,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Amazonics,
Alison Limerick,
Jawbox,
Pere Ubu,
The Residents,
MDC, MDC, MDC, MDC.
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.