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 Gambia and from Hong Kong.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Madrid.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sonic Youth to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Newcleus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Adolescents,
Soulsonic Force,
Chris Corsano,
The Saints,
Delta 5,
Man Parrish,
The Residents,
Mad Mike,
Jeru the Damaja,
Public Image Ltd.,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Axelrod,
8 Eyed Spy,
Glambeats Corp.,
Althea and Donna,
Archie Shepp,
These Immortal Souls,
Chrome,
Cal Tjader,
The American Breed,
Crime,
Outsiders,
Rufus Thomas,
Agitation Free,
Marmalade,
Avey Tare,
Khruangbin,
Public Enemy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Q65,
AZ,
Neu!,
Anakelly,
Boz Scaggs,
Japan,
Organ,
DNA,
Ronnie Foster,
Sugar Minott,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Alphaville,
Fat Boys,
Dawn Penn,
Excepter,
Quando Quango,
DJ Style,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Eric Copeland,
The Standells,
Bobby Byrd,
Aural Exciters,
Piero Umiliani,
The Dead C,
Ronan,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Near,
Crooked Eye,
the Fania All-Stars,
Funkadelic,
The Names,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.