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 Yemen and from Philadelphia.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 808 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 Royal Family And The Poor to the crunk 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 The Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wasted Youth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reagan Youth,
Parry Music,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Dirtbombs,
Isaac Hayes,
The Fugs,
Mad Mike,
Fad Gadget,
Moss Icon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABC,
Agent Orange,
Kas Product,
Zapp,
Fatback Band,
The Martian,
Maurizio,
The Leaves,
The Motions,
Con Funk Shun,
Sonic Youth,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Livin' Joy,
MDC,
New Age Steppers,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cowsills,
Danielle Patucci,
John Foxx,
Slave,
Au Pairs,
Gong,
Althea and Donna,
PIL,
The Misunderstood,
Excepter,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Audionom,
Severed Heads,
Mr. Review,
the Association,
Interpol,
E-Dancer,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Hardrive,
Bang On A Can,
Throbbing Gristle,
Swans,
The Red Krayola,
Silicon Teens,
The Names,
The Offenders,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grandmaster Flash,
Maleditus Sound,
Liliput,
T. Rex,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.