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 Egypt and from Shanghai.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Donny Hathaway to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Niagra 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 harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Frankie Knuckles,
Jacob Miller,
Piero Umiliani,
EPMD,
Thompson Twins,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oneida,
Spoonie Gee,
Tropical Tobacco,
Cameo,
New Order,
The Leaves,
Sexual Harrassment,
Bush Tetras,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Graham Central Station,
Skriet,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Fad Gadget,
Neu!,
Wire,
Chris Corsano,
F. McDonald,
Robert Wyatt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Carl Craig,
Buzzcocks,
ABBA,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Slackers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Cure,
Man Parrish,
The Vogues,
KRS-One,
Godley & Creme,
Hashim,
Joe Smooth,
Nik Kershaw,
Simply Red,
Dave Gahan,
Sam Rivers,
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Y Pants,
Public Image Ltd.,
Barrington Levy,
The Angels of Light,
Scion,
Minnie Riperton,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Amon Düül,
Section 25,
June of 44,
Dennis Brown,
Patti Smith,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.