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 Paraguay and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Aswad to the dance kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator 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 marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Procol Harum,
Adolescents,
The Techniques,
Clear Light,
Talk Talk,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Sonic Youth,
Jandek,
Panda Bear,
Hot Snakes,
Organ,
Porter Ricks,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bob Dylan,
The Human League,
The Saints,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
The Gap Band,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Cymande,
Janne Schatter,
Connie Case,
Hoover,
Freddie Wadling,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nick Fraelich,
Whodini,
Inner City,
The Victims,
Deakin,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Reagan Youth,
Stereo Dub,
Easy Going,
Roxy Music,
Robert Hood,
Quando Quango,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Skaos,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Main Source,
Joey Negro,
Lindisfarne,
Cybotron,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Television,
John Lydon,
The Cure,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crash Course in Science,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Patti Smith,
The Toasters,
Bobby Sherman,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Pere Ubu,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.