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 Eritrea and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 Skriet to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jawbox. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Matthew Bourne,
Pagans,
Ohio Players,
Anakelly,
Essential Logic,
Hoover,
The Dead C,
Young Marble Giants,
The J.B.'s,
Henry Cow,
Unrelated Segments,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
B.T. Express,
Stiv Bators,
Sällskapet,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Glenn Branca,
The Walker Brothers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cowsills,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Traffic Nightmare,
Duran Duran,
The Tremeloes,
Bauhaus,
Sight & Sound,
Tubeway Army,
Max Romeo,
The Black Dice,
Boogie Down Productions,
Spoonie Gee,
Barbara Tucker,
Malaria!,
Banda Bassotti,
Alison Limerick,
Aaron Thompson,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Robert Wyatt,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Easy Going,
Hot Snakes,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Scratch Acid,
Supertramp,
Second Layer,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Sarah Menescal,
LL Cool J,
Negative Approach,
Funkadelic,
The Real Kids,
Crime,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.