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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Pussy Galore to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fluxion. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris & Cosey 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Doobie Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
The Litter,
Michelle Simonal,
F. McDonald,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Dark Day,
Johnny Clarke,
Theoretical Girls,
Japan,
Scott Walker,
H. Thieme,
The Tremeloes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Fela Kuti,
David McCallum,
The Trojans,
Das Ding,
Lee Hazlewood,
Babytalk,
The Modern Lovers,
Byron Stingily,
Patti Smith,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Pulsallama,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sugar Minott,
The Fortunes,
Kayak,
Kenny Larkin,
Quadrant,
Masters at Work,
Barrington Levy,
Jawbox,
The Sound,
June of 44,
X-Ray Spex,
DNA,
Tears for Fears,
The Misunderstood,
Mandrill,
Albert Ayler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Star Department,
Tim Buckley,
The Remains,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Funky Four + One,
Section 25,
Khruangbin,
Mars,
Althea and Donna,
The Buckinghams,
The Dave Clark Five,
The New Christs,
Lindisfarne,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.