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 Marshall Islands and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 Robert Palmer 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 Modern Lovers to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All CMW tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Seeds,
Sister Nancy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Livin' Joy,
Ronnie Foster,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Altered Images,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Neon Judgement,
Tim Buckley,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Echospace,
Infiniti,
Tubeway Army,
The Fugs,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Jimmy McGriff,
Morten Harket,
Darondo,
Rotary Connection,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
KRS-One,
Stereo Dub,
Lungfish,
Camberwell Now,
Aswad,
The Stooges,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Saints,
Mo-Dettes,
Sonny Sharrock,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Gastr Del Sol,
New York Dolls,
Jacques Brel,
Sun City Girls,
Lucky Dragons,
Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
Kevin Saunderson,
Freddie Wadling,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ludus,
Oneida,
The Flesh Eaters,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dead Boys,
Kurtis Blow,
Parry Music,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Laurel Aitken,
Bill Near,
Outsiders,
The Moleskins,
Thompson Twins,
Ornette Coleman,
Agent Orange,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson, Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson.
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.