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 Dominica and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Human League show in Sheffield.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Barry Ungar to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All The American Breed tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang On A Can record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sly & The Family Stone,
Albert Ayler,
Kas Product,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Slits,
Nirvana,
Mandrill,
Soul II Soul,
Negative Approach,
Bobby Womack,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Babytalk,
The Velvet Underground,
The Trojans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Hashim,
Whodini,
The Moleskins,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Evens,
DJ Style,
Pere Ubu,
Roxy Music,
Camouflage,
Saccharine Trust,
Pet Shop Boys,
Infiniti,
Brass Construction,
Aswad,
Carl Craig,
Robert Wyatt,
The Saints,
New Age Steppers,
The Birthday Party,
The Golliwogs,
Black Moon,
Fela Kuti,
Mr. Review,
48th St. Collective,
Lyres,
Amon Düül,
Mo-Dettes,
The Human League,
Boredoms,
Groovy Waters,
Marshall Jefferson,
Rosa Yemen,
Bizarre Inc.,
Chris & Cosey,
Ornette Coleman,
The Tremeloes,
D'Angelo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Crash Course in Science,
Intrusion,
The Skatalites,
Donald Byrd,
Bronski Beat,
Jandek,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Camberwell Now,
U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple, U.S. Maple.
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.