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 Tajikistan and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Shanghai.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Stetsasonic to the rap 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every JFA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
Lyres,
Surgeon,
Sun Ra,
Oneida,
Laurel Aitken,
Suburban Knight,
The Cramps,
Ultra Naté,
Marmalade,
Derrick May,
Flamin' Groovies,
The New Christs,
Henry Cow,
The Cowsills,
Sarah Menescal,
Unrelated Segments,
Dark Day,
Hashim,
Intrusion,
MDC,
Grandmaster Flash,
Y Pants,
Jimmy McGriff,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ice-T,
Swell Maps,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Youth Brigade,
The Dirtbombs,
Traffic Nightmare,
KRS-One,
The Kinks,
Kayak,
Sex Pistols,
Chris & Cosey,
Gang Starr,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oblivians,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Vogues,
Gerry Rafferty,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sister Nancy,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
Ronan,
Livin' Joy,
Sugar Minott,
Q and Not U,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
Procol Harum,
Shuggie Otis,
kango's stein massive,
Massinfluence,
Barrington Levy,
Colin Newman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Pantytec,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.