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 South Africa and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Manchester.
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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe 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 Excepter to the funk 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Raincoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Dark Day,
Girls At Our Best!,
Supertramp,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Marcia Griffiths,
Buzzcocks,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Black Dice,
The Busters,
Moby Grape,
The Remains,
The Angels of Light,
Public Image Ltd.,
Brand Nubian,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Sandy B,
Pole,
X-102,
Soft Machine,
The Zeros,
Anthony Braxton,
Slick Rick,
Charles Mingus,
Neu!,
The Slackers,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cybotron,
Mars,
Prince Buster,
The Young Rascals,
Main Source,
Thee Headcoats,
Don Cherry,
Mandrill,
The Smiths,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
D'Angelo,
Joy Division,
Simply Red,
Grey Daturas,
Ken Boothe,
The Wake,
Bill Near,
Jerry's Kids,
Nico,
Roger Hodgson,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Scratch Acid,
Royal Trux,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kayak,
Lou Christie,
Thompson Twins,
Rekid,
Minutemen,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.