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 Indonesia and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Eric B and Rakim to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aswad 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
The Seeds,
Bobby Byrd,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
Donny Hathaway,
Deadbeat,
Bobby Sherman,
L. Decosne,
The Vogues,
Warren Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Bobbi Humphrey,
H. Thieme,
Suburban Knight,
Crime,
a-ha,
Niagra,
Ludus,
Thompson Twins,
Erasure,
Young Marble Giants,
Royal Trux,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Pulsallama,
Lower 48,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Young Rascals,
Joe Smooth,
Blossom Toes,
Scrapy,
Whodini,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Cluster,
Jacob Miller,
The Cramps,
Sarah Menescal,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yazoo,
the Germs,
the Fania All-Stars,
Toni Rubio,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ultravox,
The Golliwogs,
Heaven 17,
Delon & Dalcan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Moby Grape,
David Axelrod,
the Human League,
Circle Jerks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Erykah Badu,
Half Japanese,
Hashim,
Procol Harum,
The Names,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.