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 Jordan and from Portland.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 808 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 Beau Brummels 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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a June of 44 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Nas,
Matthew Bourne,
Mandrill,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Gichy Dan,
The Neon Judgement,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Marine Girls,
Harmonia,
The Five Americans,
Mr. Review,
The Barracudas,
Easy Going,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Residents,
Crooked Eye,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fatback Band,
Bootsy Collins,
David McCallum,
Al Stewart,
Organ,
The Human League,
Alison Limerick,
Roger Hodgson,
Donald Byrd,
A Certain Ratio,
Goldenarms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Doors,
Jawbox,
Michelle Simonal,
The Knickerbockers,
Bauhaus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Procol Harum,
Terry Callier,
Sixth Finger,
Ken Boothe,
Schoolly D,
Reuben Wilson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Black Pus,
The Young Rascals,
Sun City Girls,
Bill Near,
Barbara Tucker,
Echospace,
Vainqueur,
The Cowsills,
Franke,
Animal Collective,
New Age Steppers,
Agitation Free,
The Techniques,
Los Fastidios,
Eden Ahbez,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.