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 Dominican Republic and from Seoul.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 New York Dolls to the disco 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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All The Skatalites tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lou Reed & Metallica record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Harry Pussy,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
Groovy Waters,
Jacob Miller,
Sarah Menescal,
Circle Jerks,
Maleditus Sound,
Joy Division,
Mars,
Echospace,
Brand Nubian,
Visage,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Bananas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ronan,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Brass Construction,
Drive Like Jehu,
Malaria!,
Jeff Mills,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Man Parrish,
Arthur Verocai,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pantaleimon,
John Foxx,
The Offenders,
Surgeon,
Ohio Players,
X-102,
Barry Ungar,
Hashim,
Animal Collective,
Kayak,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Cowsills,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Quando Quango,
Scott Walker,
Black Sheep,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Howard Jones,
This Heat,
The New Christs,
Rotary Connection,
Joyce Sims,
Lalann,
Lower 48,
Scientists,
Graham Central Station,
The Stooges,
Suburban Knight,
the Soft Cell,
the Germs,
The Martian,
Main Source,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.