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 Fiji and from Manila.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Gap Band to the jazz 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 Depeche Mode. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Swell Maps,
Oblivians,
Jandek,
Khruangbin,
X-101,
Ronan,
The Five Americans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sandy B,
Byron Stingily,
The Wake,
Wings,
Siglo XX,
Donny Hathaway,
Quantec,
Soft Machine,
Skaos,
The Dead C,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Sherman,
Nik Kershaw,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Tremeloes,
Loose Ends,
Unrelated Segments,
Joy Division,
Dorothy Ashby,
Liliput,
Electric Prunes,
Altered Images,
Skarface,
Todd Terry,
The Doors,
The Mojo Men,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
A Certain Ratio,
K-Klass,
Fad Gadget,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Golliwogs,
H. Thieme,
Robert Hood,
Mad Mike,
Moby Grape,
Ornette Coleman,
The Residents,
Smog,
Scion,
Urselle,
Michelle Simonal,
John Coltrane,
The Divine Comedy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Motions,
Television Personalities,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.