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 Nigeria and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Kerri Chandler 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Khruangbin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus 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?
Prince Buster,
The Moody Blues,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stiv Bators,
Mission of Burma,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Main Source,
Ken Boothe,
Bronski Beat,
Roger Hodgson,
Byron Stingily,
Pantaleimon,
The Motions,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Grey Daturas,
Warsaw,
Nick Fraelich,
Fatback Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Fluxion,
Bizarre Inc.,
Basic Channel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Negative Approach,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Archie Shepp,
Cymande,
EPMD,
Junior Murvin,
B.T. Express,
Don Cherry,
The Seeds,
Brick,
The Black Dice,
Barclay James Harvest,
Cecil Taylor,
Interpol,
The Tremeloes,
June of 44,
The Cowsills,
Dorothy Ashby,
Steve Hackett,
Gong,
Motorama,
Tubeway Army,
Alice Coltrane,
Franke,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Unwound,
Severed Heads,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
Robert Görl,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Gories,
PIL,
Silicon Teens,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.