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 Germany and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 John Cale to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Barracudas. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amon Düül record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Con Funk Shun,
Surgeon,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Gap Band,
The Pretty Things,
Moss Icon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Blackbyrds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Mark Hollis,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
H. Thieme,
Tom Boy,
Terry Callier,
Tommy Roe,
Sixth Finger,
Tres Demented,
Siglo XX,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
The Electric Prunes,
A Certain Ratio,
the Normal,
Sexual Harrassment,
Letta Mbulu,
The Searchers,
the Human League,
Faust,
Maurizio,
Eric Dolphy,
Ponytail,
The Music Machine,
Barrington Levy,
Brothers Johnson,
Prince Buster,
Erykah Badu,
Japan,
UT,
Zapp,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Eurythmics,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dark Day,
Heaven 17,
Connie Case,
Blossom Toes,
Cybotron,
Half Japanese,
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sonic Youth,
The Tremeloes,
Brand Nubian,
Todd Terry,
Moebius, Moebius, Moebius, Moebius.
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.