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 Uruguay and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 Tokyo and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Donald Fagen 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 Echo & the Bunnymen to the punk 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Carl Craig,
Yaz,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Cluster,
The Barracudas,
The Seeds,
Boredoms,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Bobby Womack,
Byron Stingily,
The Victims,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Knickerbockers,
Thee Headcoats,
The Sonics,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Quantec,
Pole,
Barry Ungar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Detroit Cobras,
Pussy Galore,
Derrick Morgan,
Siglo XX,
Joey Negro,
R.M.O.,
Q and Not U,
MDC,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
Harry Pussy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Remains,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Happenings,
The United States of America,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Gories,
Black Pus,
Fela Kuti,
Wings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
This Heat,
Average White Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Clear Light,
The Dead C,
Eddi Front,
Fluxion,
Country Teasers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Negative Approach,
The Smiths,
The Real Kids,
MC5,
PIL,
Talk Talk,
Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie, Lou Christie.
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.