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 Cape Verde and from Copenhagen.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Smog to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
The Doors,
Scan 7,
Fatback Band,
The Moody Blues,
X-Ray Spex,
Section 25,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kevin Saunderson,
Ronan,
The Walker Brothers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Reuben Wilson,
Hasil Adkins,
Gang Gang Dance,
Slave,
The Knickerbockers,
Kas Product,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kaleidoscope,
Marine Girls,
Nico,
MDC,
Tomorrow,
Althea and Donna,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pylon,
Von Mondo,
The American Breed,
Easy Going,
DJ Sneak,
Gichy Dan,
Maurizio,
Faraquet,
ABC,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Angels of Light,
Ten City,
Whodini,
Vainqueur,
Dark Day,
Q and Not U,
The Real Kids,
Rotary Connection,
Theoretical Girls,
Graham Central Station,
Johnny Clarke,
Adolescents,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Sherman,
Jacques Brel,
Cecil Taylor,
Gang Starr,
the Germs,
One Last Wish,
Symarip,
The Associates,
Das Ding,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.