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 Haiti and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the punk 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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Blackbyrds,
The Associates,
One Last Wish,
The Techniques,
Au Pairs,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Swans,
Camouflage,
Neil Young,
F. McDonald,
Kaleidoscope,
Graham Central Station,
The Selecter,
Hashim,
Steve Hackett,
Absolute Body Control,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Intrusion,
The Red Krayola,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
K-Klass,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Mark Hollis,
Anakelly,
Cymande,
the Bar-Kays,
The Evens,
Blossom Toes,
Terrestrial Tones,
Robert Hood,
Johnny Clarke,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Public Image Ltd.,
Livin' Joy,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Busters,
Pagans,
Organ,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
New Order,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Tremeloes,
Danielle Patucci,
Pulsallama,
Thee Headcoats,
The Smiths,
Tom Boy,
Todd Rundgren,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Matthew Halsall,
The Index,
the Human League,
Popol Vuh,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scan 7,
U.S. Maple,
Agitation Free,
Todd Terry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Piero Umiliani,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.