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 Congo and from Madrid.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Das Ding to the grime 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cowsills,
Minnie Riperton,
Marc Almond,
The Grass Roots,
The Fugs,
The Doobie Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
Bobby Sherman,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Gladiators,
MC5,
Tommy Roe,
Ten City,
D'Angelo,
Niagra,
Pylon,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pulsallama,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Marshall Jefferson,
Circle Jerks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry's Kids,
R.M.O.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sister Nancy,
Masters at Work,
The Last Poets,
Suburban Knight,
The Slits,
The Saints,
Glenn Branca,
Gregory Isaacs,
Jacques Brel,
Ohio Players,
Saccharine Trust,
The Victims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Cameo,
Motorama,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cal Tjader,
Sugar Minott,
Camouflage,
The Cure,
Tom Boy,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Zero Boys,
JFA,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gichy Dan,
The Five Americans,
Joe Smooth,
Godley & Creme,
Blancmange,
The Evens,
Yaz,
The Misunderstood,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.