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 Laos and from Johannesburg.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Beasts of Bourbon to the grime 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 John Lydon. All the underground hits.
All Sandy B tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Banda Bassotti 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Techniques,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mummies,
Jandek,
Brick,
Susan Cadogan,
La Düsseldorf,
The Raincoats,
Moss Icon,
New York Dolls,
The Smoke,
D'Angelo,
Bauhaus,
Scrapy,
Tres Demented,
Matthew Bourne,
Josef K,
Flamin' Groovies,
Alice Coltrane,
Aural Exciters,
The Neon Judgement,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Suburban Knight,
Dead Boys,
OOIOO,
Eric Copeland,
Kayak,
Godley & Creme,
Tim Buckley,
Erasure,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bobby Sherman,
Pere Ubu,
The Pretty Things,
Yusef Lateef,
Intrusion,
Quadrant,
Patti Smith,
Yellowson,
The United States of America,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Boredoms,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Severed Heads,
K-Klass,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The American Breed,
Agitation Free,
James White and The Blacks,
Faraquet,
Donny Hathaway,
Porter Ricks,
The Invisible,
Alphaville,
Funky Four + One,
The Stooges,
Groovy Waters,
Cameo,
Main Source,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.