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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 harpsichord 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 Minor Threat to the techno 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All The Searchers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cymande record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Cowsills,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Symarip,
Soulsonic Force,
Severed Heads,
Dave Gahan,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Starr,
Fugazi,
The Leaves,
The Moleskins,
Wally Richardson,
Patti Smith,
Qualms,
ABC,
Soul Sonic Force,
Duran Duran,
The Kinks,
Crash Course in Science,
Peter and Kerry,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Depeche Mode,
The Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Connie Case,
Roxette,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Fortunes,
The Searchers,
Grandmaster Flash,
In Retrospect,
The Durutti Column,
The Dave Clark Five,
JFA,
Chris Corsano,
Massinfluence,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Black Moon,
Ultravox,
Faraquet,
Avey Tare,
Deakin,
James White and The Blacks,
Maurizio,
Von Mondo,
Erykah Badu,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Wells,
Unwound,
The Motions,
Althea and Donna,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Nils Olav,
Barry Ungar,
Anthony Braxton,
Sister Nancy,
Sun City Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Minutemen,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.