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 Guatemala and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 F. McDonald to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Fat Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Star Department tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
London Community Gospel Choir,
8 Eyed Spy,
Todd Rundgren,
the Human League,
Bush Tetras,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Aural Exciters,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Index,
Dead Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
The Tremeloes,
The American Breed,
Johnny Osbourne,
Popol Vuh,
The Dirtbombs,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Shadows of Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Victims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Scion,
Brass Construction,
Eve St. Jones,
The Cure,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gladiators,
Brand Nubian,
Pagans,
June of 44,
Shuggie Otis,
Pierre Henry,
The Beau Brummels,
Joe Finger,
Sound Behaviour,
Easy Going,
Lou Christie,
The Last Poets,
Hot Snakes,
Aaron Thompson,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boz Scaggs,
Black Pus,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liliput,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Derrick Morgan,
The Selecter,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Archie Shepp,
The Dead C,
Stiv Bators,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Fortunes,
OOIOO,
Matthew Bourne,
Scan 7,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.