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 Madagascar and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 linndrum 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the rock 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Connie Case tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Pretty Things,
Brand Nubian,
Rakim,
Byron Stingily,
The Dead C,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
F. McDonald,
Pylon,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Minnie Riperton,
Dead Boys,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Jeff Lynne,
The Young Rascals,
Stockholm Monsters,
Cybotron,
China Crisis,
La Düsseldorf,
Make Up,
Rufus Thomas,
Cameo,
Crime,
Darondo,
Los Fastidios,
Scientists,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
June of 44,
The Martian,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Cale,
The Cramps,
Cluster,
Soul Sonic Force,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Kerri Chandler,
Thee Headcoats,
Robert Hood,
Hot Snakes,
The Seeds,
Jacques Brel,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dennis Brown,
Bauhaus,
Fear,
Juan Atkins,
the Bar-Kays,
Sight & Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Monks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Theoretical Girls,
Arab on Radar,
The Divine Comedy,
Michelle Simonal,
The Tremeloes,
Gregory Isaacs,
Amon Düül II,
The Toasters,
Young Marble Giants,
Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop, Iggy Pop.
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.