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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Soft Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Kinks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Essential Logic,
DJ Sneak,
Theoretical Girls,
The Beau Brummels,
The Count Five,
Robert Görl,
Warren Ellis,
Grey Daturas,
MDC,
The Tremeloes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Camouflage,
David Bowie,
Ten City,
Connie Case,
Drive Like Jehu,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Monks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Stooges,
Bang On A Can,
The Golliwogs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
cv313,
Television,
Donald Byrd,
Man Eating Sloth,
Trumans Water,
This Heat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Hashim,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fire Engines,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
UT,
Black Moon,
Pantaleimon,
Zapp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Barclay James Harvest,
Von Mondo,
Marine Girls,
The Star Department,
Eli Mardock,
Tres Demented,
Johnny Clarke,
Arthur Verocai,
The Seeds,
Jacob Miller,
Quantec,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Blues Magoos,
Kerri Chandler,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.