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 Estonia 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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 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 Camouflage 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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed & John Cale record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Big Daddy Kane,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Japan,
Althea and Donna,
ABBA,
The Busters,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Hood,
Glenn Branca,
Drexciya,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Wake,
Motorama,
Peter and Kerry,
Hashim,
the Fania All-Stars,
AZ,
Trumans Water,
Sarah Menescal,
Stiv Bators,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Brass Construction,
The Fortunes,
Don Cherry,
Vainqueur,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Mummies,
The Remains,
Mad Mike,
The Music Machine,
48th St. Collective,
Severed Heads,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Adolescents,
the Germs,
Easy Going,
Lalann,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
F. McDonald,
Gong,
Reagan Youth,
Byron Stingily,
The Skatalites,
Slave,
Scott Walker,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Boz Scaggs,
The Smiths,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Matthew Halsall,
Yellowson,
Accadde A,
Pole,
Q65,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ultra Naté,
the Soft Cell,
Goldenarms,
Banda Bassotti,
Blake Baxter,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.