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 Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Ossler to the funk 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Circle Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Dennis Brown,
Johnny Osbourne,
Suicide,
Danielle Patucci,
Thee Headcoats,
Gang of Four,
Minor Threat,
Jesper Dahlback,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Camberwell Now,
A Certain Ratio,
Bronski Beat,
Sister Nancy,
The Motions,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kas Product,
the Normal,
Average White Band,
Unwound,
Tres Demented,
Second Layer,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul Sonic Force,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Nick Fraelich,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Searchers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Animal Collective,
The Saints,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
K-Klass,
Tim Buckley,
Curtis Mayfield,
The New Christs,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lucky Dragons,
Judy Mowatt,
Section 25,
UT,
Bang On A Can,
Whodini,
Kerrie Biddell,
Minnie Riperton,
L. Decosne,
The Music Machine,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wings,
The Gap Band,
Ponytail,
Joy Division,
Von Mondo,
Arthur Verocai,
Lindisfarne,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.