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 Bolivia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 Loose Ends to the dance 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Agent Orange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
These Immortal Souls,
Urselle,
Camberwell Now,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
10cc,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Velvet Underground,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Fall,
Roxy Music,
Vladislav Delay,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalann,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Christie,
Index,
the Soft Cell,
Slave,
Black Pus,
Oblivians,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Iggy Pop,
Marine Girls,
Toni Rubio,
Pylon,
Eddi Front,
Masters at Work,
Kerri Chandler,
Deakin,
Warsaw,
the Bar-Kays,
Technova,
Alton Ellis,
Monks,
Sight & Sound,
Japan,
Sound Behaviour,
Heaven 17,
T.S.O.L.,
Wasted Youth,
Yaz,
Ituana,
Funky Four + One,
Crash Course in Science,
The Gun Club,
Joe Smooth,
Fear,
Gerry Rafferty,
Goldenarms,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Mary Jane Girls,
Duran Duran,
Alison Limerick,
Althea and Donna,
A Certain Ratio,
The Neon Judgement,
Interpol,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.