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 Mongolia and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Lee Hazlewood to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Cluster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiohead record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Andrew Hill,
Connie Case,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Mummies,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Matthew Bourne,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
Qualms,
Index,
Easy Going,
Drive Like Jehu,
Lindisfarne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Arab on Radar,
A Certain Ratio,
Jeff Mills,
The Divine Comedy,
The Walker Brothers,
Mark Hollis,
The Residents,
Kool Moe Dee,
Marmalade,
The Dirtbombs,
Vladislav Delay,
Cameo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Black Dice,
the Sonics,
Sex Pistols,
X-Ray Spex,
Babytalk,
Cal Tjader,
EPMD,
Negative Approach,
Radiohead,
Swans,
Glenn Branca,
Neu!,
DNA,
Guru Guru,
Saccharine Trust,
June of 44,
Goldenarms,
Flash Fearless,
Spandau Ballet,
Silicon Teens,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Fela Kuti,
Lou Christie,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rites of Spring,
Wire,
Brick,
Ludus,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Monks,
Rapeman,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.