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 Taiwan and from Halifax.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Beau Brummels to the grime 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camberwell Now record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Johnny Osbourne,
Blossom Toes,
the Swans,
the Slits,
OOIOO,
The Skatalites,
FM Einheit,
UT,
LL Cool J,
Rufus Thomas,
The Monks,
Michelle Simonal,
The Detroit Cobras,
David Axelrod,
Robert Wyatt,
Connie Case,
Organ,
Roxy Music,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
Morten Harket,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Saccharine Trust,
Scientists,
Urselle,
Chris & Cosey,
Eve St. Jones,
Amon Düül,
Pantytec,
The Smiths,
Cheater Slicks,
Tears for Fears,
Moebius,
Swell Maps,
Television,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sugar Minott,
Zapp,
Pere Ubu,
China Crisis,
Fugazi,
The Dead C,
The Doors,
Boz Scaggs,
The Birthday Party,
ABC,
Neil Young,
Inner City,
Dave Gahan,
Country Teasers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Pagans,
Vladislav Delay,
Robert Görl,
The Star Department,
Ken Boothe,
Arab on Radar,
H. Thieme,
DJ Sneak,
Simply Red,
cv313,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.