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 Zambia and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Circle Jerks to the rap 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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Cure,
Scan 7,
The Slackers,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Don Cherry,
The Velvet Underground,
Godley & Creme,
Circle Jerks,
Severed Heads,
John Cale,
Khruangbin,
Sound Behaviour,
Los Fastidios,
Anthony Braxton,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
Kurtis Blow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arthur Verocai,
Stiv Bators,
Tears for Fears,
The Remains,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Rotary Connection,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Malaria!,
Soft Machine,
Flash Fearless,
the Human League,
The Alarm Clocks,
Minor Threat,
Babytalk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jacques Brel,
The Moody Blues,
Echospace,
Deakin,
Cal Tjader,
Minnie Riperton,
Livin' Joy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Motions,
The Electric Prunes,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Techniques,
The Happenings,
Marcia Griffiths,
Metal Thangz,
Maleditus Sound,
The Martian,
Joyce Sims,
Groovy Waters,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.