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 Tonga and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Angels of Light to the rock 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Barbara Tucker tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Copeland record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jawbox,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Zero Boys,
The Black Dice,
Grey Daturas,
Mo-Dettes,
The Zeros,
Newcleus,
Groovy Waters,
KRS-One,
The Saints,
Nils Olav,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fela Kuti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Steve Hackett,
Donny Hathaway,
Radiopuhelimet,
Malaria!,
Blake Baxter,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Soft Cell,
Sex Pistols,
Freddie Wadling,
Tropical Tobacco,
X-101,
DJ Style,
Parry Music,
The Monochrome Set,
Man Eating Sloth,
Harry Pussy,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Golliwogs,
The Sound,
World's Most,
Maleditus Sound,
The Cure,
Danielle Patucci,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Darondo,
Piero Umiliani,
Leonard Cohen,
Flash Fearless,
Moby Grape,
Junior Murvin,
Saccharine Trust,
Outsiders,
Maurizio,
Unwound,
Mission of Burma,
Japan,
Gichy Dan,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxette,
Peter & Gordon,
Pagans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Loose Ends,
48th St. Collective,
Juan Atkins,
Carl Craig,
DNA,
Yellowson,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.