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 Iran and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Wire show in Watford.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Yaz to the crunk 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bang on a Can All-Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Black Pus,
Bronski Beat,
It's A Beautiful Day,
James White and The Blacks,
Pylon,
Don Cherry,
The Last Poets,
Joyce Sims,
The Divine Comedy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
The United States of America,
Eric Dolphy,
Funky Four + One,
Simply Red,
Lightning Bolt,
Marcia Griffiths,
X-Ray Spex,
Sonny Sharrock,
Matthew Bourne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Arthur Verocai,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Dirtbombs,
Average White Band,
Fluxion,
Robert Wyatt,
Flipper,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Fuzztones,
China Crisis,
Circle Jerks,
Franke,
Ituana,
John Foxx,
the Human League,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Black Bananas,
Colin Newman,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Red Krayola,
World's Most,
Y Pants,
Dave Gahan,
Mandrill,
T.S.O.L.,
Jacob Miller,
The Mummies,
Cybotron,
Suburban Knight,
Oneida,
Pagans,
K-Klass,
Cecil Taylor,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Excepter,
Procol Harum,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Susan Cadogan,
The Vogues,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.