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 Mongolia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 The Last Poets to the electroclash 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 Masters at Work. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kings Of Tomorrow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Hardrive,
Junior Murvin,
Suicide,
The Flesh Eaters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nick Fraelich,
Charles Mingus,
Skaos,
Depeche Mode,
Dual Sessions,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Vogues,
The Skatalites,
Audionom,
Smog,
Outsiders,
OOIOO,
The Buckinghams,
Ultravox,
Popol Vuh,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Index,
Agent Orange,
Robert Wyatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Young Marble Giants,
Todd Rundgren,
KRS-One,
Gabor Szabo,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moody Blues,
Basic Channel,
The Blackbyrds,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fat Boys,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Martian,
Kenny Larkin,
Joensuu 1685,
Matthew Halsall,
Letta Mbulu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Harmonia,
Joyce Sims,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brothers Johnson,
Joy Division,
Metal Thangz,
Josef K,
Adolescents,
Jandek,
Technova,
Porter Ricks,
The Five Americans,
Aloha Tigers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bad Manners,
Nation of Ulysses,
MC5, MC5, MC5, MC5.
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.