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 Maldives and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Angry Samoans to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Rosa Yemen. All the underground hits.
All Mission of Burma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Con Funk Shun record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sugar Minott,
Urselle,
the Sonics,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Marine Girls,
Bobby Womack,
The Gun Club,
Rekid,
the Association,
Deakin,
Bauhaus,
DNA,
Robert Hood,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Goldenarms,
Interpol,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magma,
Altered Images,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Clear Light,
Nas,
Monks,
Gong,
the Normal,
Joe Smooth,
Jawbox,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Unwound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Little Man,
Rites of Spring,
Sun City Girls,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Busters,
Mantronix,
Soft Machine,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Techniques,
The Neon Judgement,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yaz,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pulsallama,
Rapeman,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Surgeon,
Morten Harket,
The Count Five,
Sonic Youth,
F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald, F. McDonald.
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.