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 Tuvalu and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Moss Icon to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Alphaville tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
The Skatalites,
Tears for Fears,
The Smiths,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cluster,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Green,
Niagra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Black Flag,
Alphaville,
Visage,
Gichy Dan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Drexciya,
The Monks,
Crime,
The Tremeloes,
Altered Images,
Isaac Hayes,
Unwound,
Scrapy,
Rites of Spring,
Echospace,
Das Ding,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Raincoats,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Quadrant,
Shuggie Otis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sandy B,
Tim Buckley,
Intrusion,
Harry Pussy,
JFA,
Sight & Sound,
The Selecter,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Fortunes,
Popol Vuh,
the Slits,
Soft Machine,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pulsallama,
New Order,
Nas,
the Human League,
Sällskapet,
The Slits,
F. McDonald,
Terrestrial Tones,
D'Angelo,
Interpol,
The Leaves,
The Birthday Party,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lower 48,
Crispy Ambulance,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.