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 Lebanon and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roxy Music to the jazz 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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cheater Slicks,
Faust,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Anthony Braxton,
Barry Ungar,
The Vogues,
Kevin Saunderson,
Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
David Axelrod,
Gabor Szabo,
The Selecter,
Marmalade,
The Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Supertramp,
Arcadia,
Magazine,
Brick,
Al Stewart,
The Moleskins,
Boredoms,
Gang Green,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Marine Girls,
Lightning Bolt,
Das Ding,
Japan,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joy Division,
Carl Craig,
Tears for Fears,
Black Pus,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Christie,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks,
48th St. Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
the Soft Cell,
the Fania All-Stars,
Banda Bassotti,
Royal Trux,
Crispy Ambulance,
John Holt,
Nation of Ulysses,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Man Parrish,
AZ,
Cluster,
Schoolly D,
John Foxx,
Stetsasonic,
Soft Machine,
Ultra Naté,
Technova,
Depeche Mode,
Pet Shop Boys,
Minny Pops,
A Certain Ratio,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.