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 Madagascar and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 David Bowie 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 Suicide to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Essential Logic,
Tom Boy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Qualms,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Offenders,
Bauhaus,
Model 500,
Tropical Tobacco,
Frankie Knuckles,
Max Romeo,
Stockholm Monsters,
Delta 5,
Oblivians,
The Tremeloes,
Andrew Hill,
Visage,
Eli Mardock,
Popol Vuh,
Pylon,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Man Parrish,
Jerry Gold Smith,
This Heat,
Simply Red,
Underground Resistance,
Buzzcocks,
The Trojans,
Massinfluence,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Dave Clark Five,
Erykah Badu,
Wasted Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Youth Brigade,
Roxette,
Bobby Sherman,
Tomorrow,
Ultimate Spinach,
Prince Buster,
Mars,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
48th St. Collective,
Mark Hollis,
The Pretty Things,
The Monochrome Set,
CMW,
R.M.O.,
Roxy Music,
Pagans,
The Gladiators,
Blake Baxter,
Tres Demented,
The Zeros,
Panda Bear,
Arthur Verocai,
Audionom,
Avey Tare,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.