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 Uruguay and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Delhi.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 The Residents to the punk 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Misunderstood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heaven 17,
Country Teasers,
Terry Callier,
Glenn Branca,
The Doors,
Stockholm Monsters,
Soft Machine,
Sam Rivers,
The Associates,
The Tremeloes,
Television,
Kaleidoscope,
Animal Collective,
Crime,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Todd Terry,
The American Breed,
Fatback Band,
Index,
Blossom Toes,
Quando Quango,
Ornette Coleman,
The Trojans,
The Offenders,
Blake Baxter,
The Divine Comedy,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Detroit Cobras,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deepchord,
The Cowsills,
Minny Pops,
Fugazi,
Albert Ayler,
Gichy Dan,
Rakim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Slits,
Underground Resistance,
Inner City,
Vladislav Delay,
DJ Sneak,
The Toasters,
Delta 5,
Steve Hackett,
Electric Prunes,
Al Stewart,
T.S.O.L.,
Rites of Spring,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slits,
Deadbeat,
The Neon Judgement,
Harry Pussy,
The Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Letta Mbulu,
Monks,
The Buckinghams,
Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks, Porter Ricks.
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.