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 Nicaragua and from Woodstock.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Audionom tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Busters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sparks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Grandmaster Flash,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Fall,
the Normal,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Nick Fraelich,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sexual Harrassment,
Archie Shepp,
The Star Department,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Gregory Isaacs,
Al Stewart,
Colin Newman,
The Stooges,
Kaleidoscope,
Heaven 17,
Eli Mardock,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brick,
Aaron Thompson,
The Doors,
Joe Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
AZ,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
The Birthday Party,
June Days,
Unwound,
Sam Rivers,
F. McDonald,
Tom Boy,
Radiohead,
Don Cherry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Roy Ayers,
Kayak,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Slave,
The Mummies,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bizarre Inc.,
Theoretical Girls,
Todd Terry,
Sun City Girls,
New Age Steppers,
Wire,
The Cramps,
Cluster,
John Holt,
Derrick Morgan,
Rufus Thomas,
Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt, Lightning Bolt.
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.