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 Haiti and from London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Paris.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Birthday Party 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Eddi Front,
Funky Four + One,
Reagan Youth,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
One Last Wish,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Desert Stars,
The Black Dice,
Pere Ubu,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brick,
The Blues Magoos,
Tommy Roe,
Henry Cow,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Residents,
Ultravox,
LL Cool J,
Black Moon,
Robert Wyatt,
Fela Kuti,
T. Rex,
X-102,
The Toasters,
Ohio Players,
La Düsseldorf,
Soul Sonic Force,
Marvin Gaye,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Khruangbin,
Yellowson,
Amon Düül,
Letta Mbulu,
Brand Nubian,
New Order,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Saints,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Technova,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Shoche,
Make Up,
Guru Guru,
Television,
David Axelrod,
Qualms,
MDC,
Terry Callier,
Hashim,
Audionom,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Skriet,
World's Most,
Sun Ra,
In Retrospect,
Sonic Youth,
The Velvet Underground,
Massinfluence,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jeru the Damaja,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.