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 Zimbabwe and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 Lindisfarne to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Association,
Jacques Brel,
UT,
Marvin Gaye,
Donny Hathaway,
Pantaleimon,
Parry Music,
the Fania All-Stars,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Lynne,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Gories,
Surgeon,
Liliput,
Charles Mingus,
Gang Green,
The Victims,
Blake Baxter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pole,
Inner City,
Fluxion,
Roxy Music,
Sparks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
L. Decosne,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arthur Verocai,
Deepchord,
Bauhaus,
MC5,
Q and Not U,
Arab on Radar,
The Stooges,
Peter & Gordon,
The Buckinghams,
The Monks,
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fatback Band,
The Moody Blues,
Ice-T,
The Walker Brothers,
the Swans,
Barbara Tucker,
Pere Ubu,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Fall,
Kurtis Blow,
Boz Scaggs,
Skriet,
Deadbeat,
Slick Rick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
The Dead C,
Chris & Cosey,
Lightning Bolt,
Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith, Lonnie Liston Smith.
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.