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 Zambia and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Henry Cow to the grunge 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Royal Family And The Poor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
T. Rex,
Minutemen,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Vainqueur,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Modern Lovers,
Anthony Braxton,
The Raincoats,
Agitation Free,
Tears for Fears,
Niagra,
Bob Dylan,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Subhumans,
Barbara Tucker,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Kerri Chandler,
Groovy Waters,
Arthur Verocai,
Bobby Byrd,
Newcleus,
Au Pairs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Buckinghams,
MC5,
The Happenings,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ornette Coleman,
John Lydon,
Susan Cadogan,
Moebius,
Tubeway Army,
Babytalk,
Arab on Radar,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Cramps,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Black Pus,
Quantec,
Radiopuhelimet,
Spandau Ballet,
Heaven 17,
Nik Kershaw,
LL Cool J,
Todd Terry,
Rites of Spring,
Lungfish,
Average White Band,
Unwound,
The Angels of Light,
Pagans,
Eli Mardock,
Scientists,
Fat Boys,
Mo-Dettes,
The Gap Band,
Marine Girls,
Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike, Mad Mike.
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.