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 Cambodia and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Knickerbockers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yaz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Zapp,
Blancmange,
The Black Dice,
Warsaw,
Cheater Slicks,
Bill Near,
Mandrill,
Ten City,
Hot Snakes,
Johnny Clarke,
Maurizio,
The Toasters,
The Cowsills,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Drexciya,
Sun City Girls,
Grandmaster Flash,
Make Up,
The Names,
Anthony Braxton,
Con Funk Shun,
Aaron Thompson,
FM Einheit,
Monolake,
The Fuzztones,
World's Most,
The Dirtbombs,
Alphaville,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Erasure,
John Lydon,
Roxy Music,
New York Dolls,
The Moody Blues,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Anakelly,
EPMD,
Lebanon Hanover,
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Mills,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
John Coltrane,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tres Demented,
Aswad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome,
The Pop Group,
Eric Copeland,
Vladislav Delay,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Soul Sonic Force,
KRS-One,
Mad Mike,
Alison Limerick,
The Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily, Byron Stingily.
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.