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 Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Michael McDonald 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 The Kinks to the punk 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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sisters of Mercy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABC,
Steve Hackett,
Zapp,
Lou Christie,
The Modern Lovers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Yaz,
Patti Smith,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lyres,
Television,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Brand Nubian,
Tommy Roe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Leaves,
F. McDonald,
Gil Scott Heron,
Cybotron,
Inner City,
Bush Tetras,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Japan,
Black Bananas,
The Busters,
Rapeman,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Piero Umiliani,
Audionom,
8 Eyed Spy,
These Immortal Souls,
Mad Mike,
Kerrie Biddell,
Pulsallama,
Dave Gahan,
Robert Wyatt,
Excepter,
The Skatalites,
the Slits,
The Real Kids,
The Gladiators,
Interpol,
The Angels of Light,
Yusef Lateef,
Dawn Penn,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Selecter,
Ponytail,
Roxette,
Smog,
The Dead C,
Andrew Hill,
Kurtis Blow,
Bronski Beat,
Mars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Maurizio,
Scrapy,
Goldenarms,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.