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 Eritrea 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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Excepter to the rap 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Archie Shepp,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Gap Band,
Freddie Wadling,
Second Layer,
Black Sheep,
Sixth Finger,
Rites of Spring,
Sugar Minott,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Red Krayola,
Banda Bassotti,
Y Pants,
Skaos,
Minnie Riperton,
Blake Baxter,
Easy Going,
Negative Approach,
Jawbox,
Ice-T,
Moby Grape,
Kayak,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harmonia,
Boredoms,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tom Boy,
Model 500,
Johnny Osbourne,
Radio Birdman,
Nik Kershaw,
The Saints,
Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers,
Siglo XX,
DJ Style,
The Electric Prunes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sun City Girls,
the Slits,
Soul II Soul,
Joe Smooth,
Joyce Sims,
Black Flag,
H. Thieme,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Aswad,
Toni Rubio,
The Move,
The Pretty Things,
Mo-Dettes,
Unwound,
Shuggie Otis,
the Association,
Popol Vuh,
Black Bananas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Neu!,
The Cure,
Chris Corsano,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.