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 Lesotho and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 theremin 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 Lou Reed & John Cale to the dance 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 Ponytail. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a One Last Wish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Gong,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Pretty Things,
The Slackers,
Black Sheep,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Michelle Simonal,
B.T. Express,
Derrick May,
Dave Gahan,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mandrill,
Eddi Front,
DNA,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Selecter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Pere Ubu,
Minor Threat,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
Television,
Eurythmics,
Ultravox,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nas,
The Cure,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Peter & Gordon,
Little Man,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Parry Music,
CMW,
The Doors,
Agent Orange,
Carl Craig,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantaleimon,
The Smiths,
Gichy Dan,
Toni Rubio,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Guru Guru,
Reagan Youth,
The Litter,
The Wake,
Warren Ellis,
Kerri Chandler,
The Divine Comedy,
The Barracudas,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
June of 44,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bob Dylan,
Kenny Larkin,
New Age Steppers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Peter and Kerry,
The Mummies,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.