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 Jamaica and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Anthony Braxton to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lakeside,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Morten Harket,
T. Rex,
Scan 7,
Bush Tetras,
Desert Stars,
Nick Fraelich,
The Music Machine,
Technova,
Loose Ends,
KRS-One,
Hasil Adkins,
Bootsy Collins,
Sällskapet,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
Pantytec,
Pole,
Gong,
The Star Department,
Angry Samoans,
Mission of Burma,
Iggy Pop,
Black Flag,
Reagan Youth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Minutemen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Johnny Clarke,
Crime,
The Names,
Absolute Body Control,
Steve Hackett,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roger Hodgson,
John Holt,
The Busters,
Gang Starr,
Hot Snakes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Modern Lovers,
Ituana,
Warsaw,
Magma,
Spoonie Gee,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Magazine,
Arthur Verocai,
Saccharine Trust,
Deakin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Minnie Riperton,
Alison Limerick,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Beau Brummels,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kenny Larkin,
Don Cherry,
Kevin Saunderson,
Tom Boy,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.