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 Slovenia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 chamberlin 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 Bang On A Can to the rock 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 the Slits. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-102 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Crooked Eye,
Smog,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Slave,
Ronan,
The Doobie Brothers,
Blancmange,
Suicide,
Von Mondo,
Crispian St. Peters,
Inner City,
Ponytail,
Quando Quango,
Procol Harum,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spoonie Gee,
10cc,
New York Dolls,
Pantytec,
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Moody Blues,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Blake Baxter,
Gong,
Ice-T,
Chris Corsano,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Das Ding,
Theoretical Girls,
The Zeros,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Names,
Severed Heads,
Amon Düül II,
The Kinks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
Janne Schatter,
Ludus,
Japan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soft Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Patti Smith,
Royal Trux,
The Last Poets,
Traffic Nightmare,
Tropical Tobacco,
Isaac Hayes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Johnny Osbourne,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Sherman,
Graham Central Station,
The United States of America,
The Evens,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band.
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.