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 Macedonia and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Suicide to the rock 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 Donny Hathaway. All the underground hits.
All Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Von Mondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Marmalade,
Echospace,
Unrelated Segments,
Sällskapet,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pagans,
The Sound,
Popol Vuh,
D'Angelo,
MDC,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
New Order,
Harry Pussy,
Los Fastidios,
Talk Talk,
Rufus Thomas,
David Bowie,
FM Einheit,
Junior Murvin,
Panda Bear,
Minny Pops,
LL Cool J,
Man Parrish,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Intrusion,
Juan Atkins,
X-102,
Joyce Sims,
Robert Görl,
Flamin' Groovies,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Toni Rubio,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
K-Klass,
The Seeds,
Metal Thangz,
Neu!,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
John Foxx,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lakeside,
Bobby Byrd,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slick Rick,
Moebius,
The Monks,
The J.B.'s,
H. Thieme,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wasted Youth,
Faraquet,
Todd Terry,
Gang Gang Dance,
Monolake,
Loose Ends,
Ornette Coleman,
Todd Rundgren,
Deakin,
Harmonia,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.