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 Kuwait and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Associates to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All Rosa Yemen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Adolescents,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
OOIOO,
Big Daddy Kane,
Arthur Verocai,
Sarah Menescal,
The Misunderstood,
Gichy Dan,
Heaven 17,
The Fortunes,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Five Americans,
Suburban Knight,
Eddi Front,
Slave,
A Certain Ratio,
Boz Scaggs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DJ Sneak,
L. Decosne,
The Cure,
Kenny Larkin,
Flamin' Groovies,
Mantronix,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Saints,
Sonic Youth,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
Nation of Ulysses,
Johnny Osbourne,
Faust,
The Selecter,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
DJ Style,
Patti Smith,
The Dirtbombs,
The Litter,
New Age Steppers,
Make Up,
Circle Jerks,
Tom Boy,
World's Most,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fat Boys,
Pere Ubu,
Glenn Branca,
Pagans,
Skriet,
The Moody Blues,
Sexual Harrassment,
Blossom Toes,
The New Christs,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Davy DMX,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Niagra,
Altered Images,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.