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 Madagascar and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Dead C 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All Iggy Pop tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agitation Free record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grey Daturas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Doors,
The Young Rascals,
Severed Heads,
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
Malaria!,
Pussy Galore,
Charles Mingus,
Laurel Aitken,
Underground Resistance,
Roxy Music,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Moody Blues,
Skarface,
The Selecter,
The Mojo Men,
Curtis Mayfield,
X-101,
Thompson Twins,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aural Exciters,
Sonic Youth,
Fatback Band,
H. Thieme,
cv313,
Basic Channel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Franke,
Motorama,
Sound Behaviour,
Al Stewart,
June of 44,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Fortunes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Parry Music,
Cluster,
Bad Manners,
Camouflage,
Wire,
Derrick May,
The Grass Roots,
Yusef Lateef,
the Slits,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dorothy Ashby,
OOIOO,
Rod Modell,
Max Romeo,
Marshall Jefferson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
B.T. Express,
The J.B.'s,
Isaac Hayes,
Unwound,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.