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 Estonia and from Taipei.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Alton Ellis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Chocolate Watch Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave 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 Fuzztones,
The Vogues,
Marmalade,
Lou Reed,
Aswad,
Sun Ra,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Subhumans,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Grass Roots,
the Swans,
Half Japanese,
Suburban Knight,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Ponytail,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Slits,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ultimate Spinach,
Thee Headcoats,
Danielle Patucci,
The Black Dice,
Au Pairs,
Sixth Finger,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Red Krayola,
Newcleus,
Sugar Minott,
The Last Poets,
Lightning Bolt,
Leonard Cohen,
48th St. Collective,
Moss Icon,
Public Image Ltd.,
DJ Style,
The Fall,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Buckinghams,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tres Demented,
The Kinks,
Youth Brigade,
Kurtis Blow,
Model 500,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Electric Prunes,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Birthday Party,
Lungfish,
Harpers Bizarre,
Sex Pistols,
Avey Tare,
Von Mondo,
Shoche,
Jesper Dahlback,
Talk Talk,
Index,
Japan,
Porter Ricks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.