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 Serbia and from Winnipeg.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Deadbeat to the crunk 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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Chris Corsano,
Scott Walker,
Marshall Jefferson,
June Days,
Ice-T,
Oblivians,
Boredoms,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Dirtbombs,
Second Layer,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Robert Wyatt,
Quantec,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Derrick May,
La Düsseldorf,
John Coltrane,
The Kinks,
Main Source,
Moss Icon,
Simply Red,
The Cramps,
The Slackers,
Bootsy Collins,
X-102,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Talk Talk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Icehouse,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Swans,
One Last Wish,
The Invisible,
Faraquet,
Ponytail,
Bill Near,
Gang of Four,
Bauhaus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ossler,
Outsiders,
Gastr Del Sol,
Fear,
Robert Hood,
Carl Craig,
Aaron Thompson,
Public Enemy,
The Techniques,
Index,
Procol Harum,
Motorama,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Monolake,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.