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 Korea North and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 guitar 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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marshall Jefferson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
The Names,
Easy Going,
Visage,
Mantronix,
Scion,
Sonic Youth,
Procol Harum,
The Black Dice,
Rites of Spring,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Parry Music,
Joyce Sims,
Sandy B,
Tom Boy,
The Fortunes,
Marmalade,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Searchers,
Wasted Youth,
Harmonia,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Hashim,
Slick Rick,
Todd Rundgren,
Zero Boys,
Severed Heads,
Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
Simply Red,
Gang of Four,
Neil Young,
Soft Machine,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Womack,
Sun City Girls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Martian,
Joe Finger,
Second Layer,
Chrome,
The Music Machine,
Eric Copeland,
Ponytail,
Mr. Review,
Franke,
Motorama,
Roy Ayers,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Real Kids,
Alison Limerick,
the Germs,
Tropical Tobacco,
Desert Stars,
Pussy Galore,
Vainqueur,
The Litter,
Royal Trux,
Amon Düül,
Scan 7,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.