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 Solomon Islands and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Isaac Hayes to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Traffic Nightmare record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Unrelated Segments,
Popol Vuh,
Ituana,
Spandau Ballet,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Amon Düül,
Lakeside,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warsaw,
Porter Ricks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scan 7,
Bobby Sherman,
Rites of Spring,
The Martian,
Grandmaster Flash,
Accadde A,
Mission of Burma,
Scrapy,
Minor Threat,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bang On A Can,
The New Christs,
Suburban Knight,
Ken Boothe,
Ten City,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
L. Decosne,
Blancmange,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
X-Ray Spex,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Arab on Radar,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lightning Bolt,
Groovy Waters,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kerri Chandler,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
Can,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
Blake Baxter,
The Stooges,
Bronski Beat,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Half Japanese,
Average White Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Neon Judgement,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Dead Boys,
June of 44, June of 44, June of 44, June of 44.
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.