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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 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 Bobby Byrd to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Outsiders. All the underground hits.
All Bill Wells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Cal Tjader,
Sugar Minott,
Circle Jerks,
The Sonics,
Pole,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Saccharine Trust,
Oblivians,
Rapeman,
Eric Dolphy,
DJ Style,
Maurizio,
Depeche Mode,
David Axelrod,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Flag,
Janne Schatter,
Bluetip,
Flash Fearless,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Minor Threat,
Davy DMX,
The Leaves,
Whodini,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fugs,
Barrington Levy,
PIL,
Roxy Music,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Procol Harum,
The Pretty Things,
A Certain Ratio,
Inner City,
Barry Ungar,
The Monks,
Essential Logic,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lucky Dragons,
Sällskapet,
The J.B.'s,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Joe Smooth,
Black Bananas,
Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Fad Gadget,
Deakin,
Harmonia,
Don Cherry,
The Selecter,
Yazoo,
Talk Talk,
Maleditus Sound,
Rufus Thomas,
Aswad,
Theoretical Girls,
Henry Cow,
Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes, Wolf Eyes.
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.