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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Black Moon. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
The Neon Judgement,
Khruangbin,
The Sound,
Black Sheep,
X-Ray Spex,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Warsaw,
Eve St. Jones,
Stetsasonic,
Alison Limerick,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Flamin' Groovies,
Japan,
Sugar Minott,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Organ,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Wolf Eyes,
The Tremeloes,
Tears for Fears,
Brothers Johnson,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Modern Lovers,
Juan Atkins,
Ronan,
Theoretical Girls,
the Bar-Kays,
Shuggie Otis,
Minor Threat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delon & Dalcan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Sonics,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Sun City Girls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rufus Thomas,
June Days,
Eric Copeland,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pere Ubu,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Quadrant,
La Düsseldorf,
Suburban Knight,
MC5,
Iggy Pop,
ABC,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
Electric Light Orchestra,
John Lydon,
Scan 7,
Bill Wells,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cure,
Lyres,
Popol Vuh,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Loose Ends,
Adolescents,
Zapp,
Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall, Matthew Halsall.
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.