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 Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 The Smoke to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jerry Gold Smith. All the underground hits.
All Lee Hazlewood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Depeche Mode 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Peter and Kerry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
Patti Smith,
The Pop Group,
Crime,
Sonny Sharrock,
Theoretical Girls,
Accadde A,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Pylon,
X-102,
In Retrospect,
Soul Sonic Force,
UT,
Harmonia,
Qualms,
the Normal,
Gregory Isaacs,
These Immortal Souls,
The Count Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Monks,
Funkadelic,
Deadbeat,
Quadrant,
B.T. Express,
The Birthday Party,
Camouflage,
Rakim,
Tom Boy,
Roger Hodgson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Crooked Eye,
Sandy B,
The Remains,
Zapp,
DNA,
Skarface,
Neil Young,
Henry Cow,
Minor Threat,
Donald Byrd,
Sight & Sound,
The Durutti Column,
The Black Dice,
Excepter,
Subhumans,
Barrington Levy,
One Last Wish,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aloha Tigers,
Maurizio,
James White and The Blacks,
Pierre Henry,
Audionom,
Animal Collective,
Nils Olav,
World's Most,
John Cale,
Don Cherry,
Bad Manners,
Suicide,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.