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 Haiti and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Holt to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Rhythm & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Victims 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Tres Demented,
The Gun Club,
Swans,
Crispy Ambulance,
Eric Copeland,
Morten Harket,
Wolf Eyes,
Das Ding,
the Slits,
Sarah Menescal,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
The Alarm Clocks,
Desert Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang of Four,
Joyce Sims,
Quando Quango,
The Moleskins,
Pulsallama,
June Days,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Unrelated Segments,
Tommy Roe,
Sonny Sharrock,
Country Teasers,
The Slits,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Last Poets,
Altered Images,
Newcleus,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pretty Things,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flipper,
David Bowie,
Icehouse,
Sparks,
Harpers Bizarre,
Camberwell Now,
Toni Rubio,
the Sonics,
Delta 5,
Fluxion,
Swell Maps,
Supertramp,
Mission of Burma,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scan 7,
Bobby Womack,
Saccharine Trust,
Television,
Pole,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Searchers,
Bootsy Collins,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Animal Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Bluetip,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.