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 Guinea and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
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 Stockholm Monsters 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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Subhumans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Jandek,
Wings,
Cameo,
Maleditus Sound,
Grandmaster Flash,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Yaz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Associates,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
The Young Rascals,
Chris & Cosey,
Funky Four + One,
the Swans,
The Wake,
The Fugs,
Aswad,
Tomorrow,
Nation of Ulysses,
Steve Hackett,
Organ,
DNA,
The American Breed,
The Stooges,
Kenny Larkin,
Donald Byrd,
Big Daddy Kane,
Slave,
Moebius,
Icehouse,
Fat Boys,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quadrant,
Severed Heads,
Porter Ricks,
The Index,
Byron Stingily,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cecil Taylor,
Amazonics,
John Holt,
Grauzone,
Essential Logic,
Tommy Roe,
E-Dancer,
Easy Going,
Junior Murvin,
the Slits,
Slick Rick,
Terrestrial Tones,
Von Mondo,
Dark Day,
The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings, The Happenings.
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.