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 Iceland and from Manchester.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Neon Judgement to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun Ra Arkestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Whodini,
Morten Harket,
The Star Department,
Brick,
Marine Girls,
In Retrospect,
Mo-Dettes,
The Five Americans,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Judy Mowatt,
X-Ray Spex,
Mandrill,
Flipper,
the Swans,
Slick Rick,
Roger Hodgson,
The Grass Roots,
The Alarm Clocks,
OOIOO,
Rapeman,
Ludus,
Interpol,
Anakelly,
Maurizio,
Amazonics,
Andrew Hill,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Eating Sloth,
Monks,
The Cure,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cymande,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bill Wells,
Cluster,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Stetsasonic,
The United States of America,
Sound Behaviour,
Barbara Tucker,
Todd Terry,
Suicide,
Lou Christie,
The Names,
Guru Guru,
Slave,
The Cramps,
Ossler,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sarah Menescal,
Underground Resistance,
Lalo Schifrin,
Wings,
F. McDonald,
The Neon Judgement,
Donald Byrd,
New Age Steppers,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.