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 Burundi and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Christie to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Barclay James Harvest tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Steve Hackett,
Traffic Nightmare,
Janne Schatter,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smoke,
The Star Department,
Brick,
The Kinks,
Wire,
Jacob Miller,
The Fire Engines,
Jeff Mills,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Barbara Tucker,
Pole,
Nas,
Electric Prunes,
Radiohead,
Cameo,
Eve St. Jones,
Radio Birdman,
The Durutti Column,
the Sonics,
Newcleus,
Eurythmics,
Stiv Bators,
Quando Quango,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Style,
Nils Olav,
Black Sheep,
The Seeds,
The Pop Group,
Livin' Joy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Ludus,
Aloha Tigers,
The Slackers,
Toni Rubio,
David McCallum,
Isaac Hayes,
Kayak,
EPMD,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Moss Icon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sister Nancy,
Yellowson,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Standells,
Godley & Creme,
Avey Tare,
48th St. Collective,
Suicide,
Roger Hodgson,
The Last Poets,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Stereo Dub,
The Angels of Light,
The Litter,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.