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 Seychelles and from Hong Kong.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Gerry Rafferty to the crunk 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 Y Pants. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Neil Young,
The Real Kids,
the Human League,
the Bar-Kays,
Black Moon,
John Lydon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Count Five,
Magma,
Albert Ayler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Outsiders,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fat Boys,
Motorama,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Selecter,
Bluetip,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Slick Rick,
Spandau Ballet,
Charles Mingus,
The Moody Blues,
Icehouse,
Tres Demented,
Jacob Miller,
Pierre Henry,
Camberwell Now,
Neu!,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mantronix,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Durutti Column,
Echospace,
Erykah Badu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Dirtbombs,
Ronnie Foster,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Womack,
Wire,
Groovy Waters,
Matthew Bourne,
Symarip,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rapeman,
Fad Gadget,
Intrusion,
Eric Copeland,
Eli Mardock,
Hot Snakes,
Toni Rubio,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Procol Harum,
Dual Sessions,
Pole,
Con Funk Shun,
Eurythmics,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.