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 Argentina and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Knickerbockers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Excepter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Joyce Sims,
Con Funk Shun,
The Beau Brummels,
The Stooges,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Outsiders,
Lalo Schifrin,
Arthur Verocai,
DJ Sneak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
LL Cool J,
E-Dancer,
Bizarre Inc.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Roxette,
Adolescents,
Suicide,
Electric Prunes,
Unwound,
Lakeside,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Sonics,
The Fall,
Soft Machine,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Desert Stars,
The Walker Brothers,
Kayak,
The Moleskins,
Cheater Slicks,
Black Bananas,
Minor Threat,
Thompson Twins,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Roxy Music,
Mr. Review,
Yellowson,
Model 500,
Patti Smith,
Jawbox,
Arab on Radar,
Slick Rick,
The Raincoats,
DNA,
Porter Ricks,
Eric Dolphy,
The Durutti Column,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Osbourne,
Morten Harket,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Barracudas,
Swans,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Coltrane,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.