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 France and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
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 Gabor Szabo to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Eve St. Jones. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Franke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Birthday Party,
Warren Ellis,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jeff Mills,
Minny Pops,
Heaven 17,
ABC,
Inner City,
Young Marble Giants,
Harmonia,
David Bowie,
Circle Jerks,
Vladislav Delay,
Roger Hodgson,
The Index,
The Fall,
Little Man,
kango's stein massive,
Henry Cow,
Jeru the Damaja,
Gang Gang Dance,
Youth Brigade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lyres,
Wasted Youth,
Ice-T,
Juan Atkins,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül,
Mr. Review,
Mary Jane Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Derrick May,
Curtis Mayfield,
Grauzone,
Interpol,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Barclay James Harvest,
Jerry's Kids,
Al Stewart,
Anthony Braxton,
Amon Düül II,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sun Ra,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Misunderstood,
Robert Wyatt,
Adolescents,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The J.B.'s,
Maleditus Sound,
The Red Krayola,
Moebius,
Delon & Dalcan,
Harry Pussy,
Wolf Eyes,
48th St. Collective,
Minutemen,
B.T. Express,
Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls, Theoretical Girls.
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.