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 Kyrgyzstan and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 linndrum 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 The Evens to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Ken Boothe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Move,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Nik Kershaw,
Thee Headcoats,
Albert Ayler,
Jeff Mills,
Organ,
The Associates,
Lebanon Hanover,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lungfish,
June of 44,
John Holt,
Make Up,
Ituana,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Searchers,
The Seeds,
Tom Boy,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Country Joe & The Fish,
the Soft Cell,
The Toasters,
Ludus,
Cal Tjader,
Underground Resistance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Kool Moe Dee,
Roxy Music,
The Cramps,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Anakelly,
Fugazi,
Al Stewart,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Mojo Men,
David Axelrod,
Reagan Youth,
Johnny Clarke,
Alphaville,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül,
The Litter,
Lower 48,
Blossom Toes,
Bill Near,
New Age Steppers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Grass Roots,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Buckinghams,
Moby Grape,
Mark Hollis,
The American Breed,
Judy Mowatt,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kas Product,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.