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 Bolivia and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Magma to the electroclash 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 Stiv Bators. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aaron Thompson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Animal Collective,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris Corsano,
the Association,
Gang Starr,
Matthew Halsall,
The Remains,
Bill Wells,
Bronski Beat,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Teasers,
Maurizio,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Althea and Donna,
Porter Ricks,
Scan 7,
Minny Pops,
World's Most,
Nik Kershaw,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Television,
the Human League,
Joensuu 1685,
The Young Rascals,
Brick,
Interpol,
Barbara Tucker,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Royal Trux,
The Blackbyrds,
Bang On A Can,
The Names,
Throbbing Gristle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Susan Cadogan,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
DJ Style,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Grey Daturas,
B.T. Express,
Shoche,
the Swans,
Man Parrish,
Deakin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Seeds,
Roger Hodgson,
The Vogues,
Graham Central Station,
The Doors,
Skaos,
Junior Murvin,
Pole,
kango's stein massive,
Freddie Wadling,
Section 25,
Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton, Anthony Braxton.
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.