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 Fiji 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 guitar 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 Gichy Dan to the jazz 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dennis Brown 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a World's Most record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Subhumans,
Junior Murvin,
The Victims,
June Days,
The Gories,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tears for Fears,
Terrestrial Tones,
Reagan Youth,
The Residents,
Ponytail,
The Motions,
Sister Nancy,
The Fugs,
The Grass Roots,
Zapp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
Crooked Eye,
The Names,
Rufus Thomas,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Vogues,
Pere Ubu,
Fugazi,
Swell Maps,
Gang of Four,
The Detroit Cobras,
Altered Images,
Khruangbin,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eve St. Jones,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Slave,
Newcleus,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Human League,
Ken Boothe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Wasted Youth,
Inner City,
David McCallum,
Mad Mike,
The United States of America,
Excepter,
Sex Pistols,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Eurythmics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Adolescents,
Wolf Eyes,
Fear,
Nirvana,
Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango, Quando Quango.
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.