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 Mauritania and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the oboe 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 The Mojo Men to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Duran Duran. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gabor Szabo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Susan Cadogan,
Y Pants,
Pantaleimon,
Japan,
Colin Newman,
The Cure,
Man Eating Sloth,
John Lydon,
Oblivians,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glenn Branca,
The Gladiators,
The Fortunes,
Stetsasonic,
Tubeway Army,
Moss Icon,
Public Enemy,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Byrd,
Average White Band,
FM Einheit,
The Red Krayola,
Television,
Khruangbin,
The Slackers,
the Slits,
Deadbeat,
Sällskapet,
R.M.O.,
Flash Fearless,
Big Daddy Kane,
Charles Mingus,
The Toasters,
The New Christs,
The Modern Lovers,
The American Breed,
Subhumans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Das Ding,
Delta 5,
The Cowsills,
Dark Day,
AZ,
The Skatalites,
Matthew Bourne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Aswad,
Blancmange,
In Retrospect,
Donald Byrd,
Rakim,
The Blackbyrds,
10cc,
Kayak,
Whodini,
Zero Boys,
Von Mondo,
Marmalade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Dead Boys,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.