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 Vanuatu and from Taipei.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Qualms to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ralphi Rosario record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James White and The Blacks,
AZ,
Ponytail,
Zapp,
The Pretty Things,
Iggy Pop,
The Beau Brummels,
Marmalade,
Easy Going,
Flamin' Groovies,
Joey Negro,
Royal Trux,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Motions,
Jerry's Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
Althea and Donna,
Young Marble Giants,
Aural Exciters,
Mission of Burma,
Johnny Clarke,
Magazine,
Faust,
Roxette,
The Grass Roots,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Vladislav Delay,
R.M.O.,
Prince Buster,
Urselle,
One Last Wish,
Model 500,
These Immortal Souls,
Whodini,
Grandmaster Flash,
Supertramp,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Monks,
New Order,
Amon Düül II,
Bobby Byrd,
T. Rex,
Minutemen,
Stereo Dub,
Vainqueur,
the Bar-Kays,
Ken Boothe,
Tommy Roe,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bluetip,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lou Christie,
MC5,
The Index,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Jawbox,
The Gun Club,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.