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 Angola and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lou Christie to the grime 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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All These Immortal Souls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Interpol,
F. McDonald,
Al Stewart,
Joy Division,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bad Manners,
The Vogues,
Absolute Body Control,
Judy Mowatt,
Barrington Levy,
Sparks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Matthew Bourne,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New York Dolls,
Ornette Coleman,
The Five Americans,
The Moody Blues,
The Martian,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Moon,
The Cramps,
Kerri Chandler,
The Misunderstood,
Quadrant,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Neu!,
The Smoke,
The Saints,
Anakelly,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Morten Harket,
Y Pants,
Soul Sonic Force,
Little Man,
The Golliwogs,
Half Japanese,
Eve St. Jones,
The Litter,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Green,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Pussy Galore,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bluetip,
John Coltrane,
Moebius,
Sex Pistols,
Blossom Toes,
Lebanon Hanover,
New Age Steppers,
Carl Craig,
Mad Mike,
Wolf Eyes,
H. Thieme,
Delta 5,
Girls At Our Best!,
DNA,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.