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 Iceland and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 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 Dorothy Ashby to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The J.B.'s. All the underground hits.
All Archie Shepp tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker + Sunn O))) 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Alton Ellis,
Khruangbin,
E-Dancer,
Heaven 17,
Black Moon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sixth Finger,
Brass Construction,
Accadde A,
Sound Behaviour,
Kayak,
Barclay James Harvest,
UT,
The Smoke,
Quadrant,
Lower 48,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mantronix,
Groovy Waters,
Monolake,
Quando Quango,
Minnie Riperton,
Bang On A Can,
Babytalk,
Laurel Aitken,
The Standells,
The Cure,
Hardrive,
Stockholm Monsters,
Gerry Rafferty,
Los Fastidios,
The J.B.'s,
Porter Ricks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ten City,
Dual Sessions,
Public Image Ltd.,
Swans,
The Gun Club,
Bill Near,
Half Japanese,
Malaria!,
Schoolly D,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Anakelly,
Dorothy Ashby,
Stiv Bators,
The Fortunes,
Nico,
The Shadows of Knight,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Gladiators,
Marine Girls,
The Stooges,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Mary Jane Girls,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
John Cale,
Susan Cadogan,
Eric B and Rakim,
Metal Thangz,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.