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 Andorra and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Soft Boys show in Cambridge.
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 Calgary and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the güiro 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Louis and Bebe Barron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agitation Free record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Joe Finger,
Infiniti,
Khruangbin,
Drexciya,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Arthur Verocai,
Bill Near,
the Association,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Offenders,
Harpers Bizarre,
Lucky Dragons,
Fugazi,
The Fugs,
Cheater Slicks,
Prince Buster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Hot Snakes,
8 Eyed Spy,
Unwound,
Nick Fraelich,
Roxy Music,
Intrusion,
Quadrant,
UT,
The Slackers,
Banda Bassotti,
Reuben Wilson,
Reagan Youth,
Kenny Larkin,
The Electric Prunes,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Chris & Cosey,
Erykah Badu,
Agent Orange,
The Dead C,
Barbara Tucker,
The Red Krayola,
Harry Pussy,
Joensuu 1685,
This Heat,
Half Japanese,
Susan Cadogan,
Japan,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric B and Rakim,
Eurythmics,
Scion,
Fatback Band,
Slave,
June of 44,
The Monks,
Alphaville,
Derrick May,
the Soft Cell,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.