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 Bahamas and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
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 The Shadows of Knight to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All Groovy Waters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jimmy McGriff record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Mummies,
Ludus,
Heaven 17,
K-Klass,
Derrick Morgan,
Trumans Water,
Charles Mingus,
The Sound,
a-ha,
Eric B and Rakim,
Television Personalities,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Technova,
The Fall,
Porter Ricks,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ronan,
Maurizio,
Grauzone,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Saccharine Trust,
The Black Dice,
Gong,
The J.B.'s,
Joyce Sims,
Con Funk Shun,
Freddie Wadling,
AZ,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Stiv Bators,
Pharoah Sanders,
Gichy Dan,
Ossler,
The Golliwogs,
Sarah Menescal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Model 500,
Bobby Womack,
Connie Case,
Derrick May,
Judy Mowatt,
Josef K,
Silicon Teens,
June of 44,
ABBA,
Bill Wells,
JFA,
Sällskapet,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kool Moe Dee,
Nas,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Standells,
Pulsallama,
Mad Mike,
Animal Collective,
Ken Boothe,
Glenn Branca,
Marvin Gaye,
Funky Four + One,
Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers, Sam Rivers.
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.