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 Liberia and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba 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 Circle Jerks 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Chris Corsano tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chrome 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Basic Channel,
DJ Style,
Mandrill,
Dave Gahan,
Andrew Hill,
Eddi Front,
The Monks,
Pussy Galore,
The Golliwogs,
Bronski Beat,
Tropical Tobacco,
Wasted Youth,
The Walker Brothers,
EPMD,
Harry Pussy,
Morten Harket,
Dorothy Ashby,
The United States of America,
Fluxion,
Camberwell Now,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Gang of Four,
Dark Day,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Livin' Joy,
Oneida,
Josef K,
The Associates,
Stockholm Monsters,
Joyce Sims,
Erasure,
D'Angelo,
Trumans Water,
The Knickerbockers,
Amazonics,
The Young Rascals,
Kool Moe Dee,
This Heat,
The Velvet Underground,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Nirvana,
The Remains,
Todd Terry,
Grey Daturas,
Severed Heads,
Henry Cow,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Parry Music,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Normal,
China Crisis,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Glenn Branca,
Toni Rubio,
Tubeway Army,
Qualms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Last Poets,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.