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 Slovenia and from Stockholm.
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 London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Young Rascals to the rap 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All Hot Snakes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Patti Smith,
Heaven 17,
Andrew Hill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
the Slits,
Crispian St. Peters,
Johnny Osbourne,
Second Layer,
Brick,
The Wake,
AZ,
The Barracudas,
the Bar-Kays,
UT,
Porter Ricks,
Cal Tjader,
Faraquet,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacob Miller,
Camouflage,
In Retrospect,
Mad Mike,
Donny Hathaway,
Roy Ayers,
Suicide,
Cybotron,
Black Sheep,
The Victims,
KRS-One,
The Moleskins,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
The Evens,
Terrestrial Tones,
New Age Steppers,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Seeds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Masters at Work,
John Coltrane,
Marmalade,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Fire Engines,
Scratch Acid,
Black Moon,
The Names,
Black Bananas,
DNA,
Dark Day,
Lucky Dragons,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
H. Thieme,
Boredoms,
Marc Almond,
Circle Jerks,
Kurtis Blow,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.