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 Portugal and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Lou Reed 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 Lyres to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
James Chance & The Contortions,
Peter and Kerry,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wolf Eyes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Skarface,
Pole,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
The Offenders,
Aural Exciters,
Flipper,
Spandau Ballet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Shoche,
Radio Birdman,
Boz Scaggs,
Chris Corsano,
The Slackers,
Mandrill,
kango's stein massive,
John Lydon,
The Litter,
Jawbox,
Bluetip,
Rites of Spring,
Scion,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Accadde A,
Alice Coltrane,
Magma,
Glenn Branca,
Lower 48,
Prince Buster,
Slave,
The Skatalites,
The Knickerbockers,
Bronski Beat,
Half Japanese,
Slick Rick,
Simply Red,
Outsiders,
Sällskapet,
Lakeside,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harry Pussy,
EPMD,
Pantaleimon,
Sparks,
Anthony Braxton,
Jimmy McGriff,
Royal Trux,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Anakelly,
Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich, Nick Fraelich.
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.