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 China and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sun Ra Arkestra. All the underground hits.
All The Offenders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Siouxsie and the Banshees record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Index,
Kas Product,
Black Sheep,
The Trojans,
Amazonics,
Sex Pistols,
Organ,
Bill Near,
Silicon Teens,
Joe Finger,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Alison Limerick,
Carl Craig,
The Monks,
DNA,
Tim Buckley,
Harmonia,
Echospace,
Dorothy Ashby,
Iggy Pop,
Loose Ends,
Funky Four + One,
Nas,
The Victims,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Monochrome Set,
Funkadelic,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Banda Bassotti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Fall,
This Heat,
June of 44,
Ronan,
Nico,
New Order,
New Age Steppers,
Dual Sessions,
Toni Rubio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Excepter,
Buzzcocks,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Fugazi,
Television,
The Smoke,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Mr. Review,
Main Source,
The Techniques,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Hardrive,
Heaven 17,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ten City,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer, E-Dancer.
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.