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 India and from Bremen.
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 New York and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Darondo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moebius record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Al Stewart,
Cecil Taylor,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Cowsills,
Subhumans,
Jacob Miller,
Juan Atkins,
The Red Krayola,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Electric Prunes,
Excepter,
Bootsy Collins,
Joensuu 1685,
D'Angelo,
Pulsallama,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Toasters,
Barbara Tucker,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Urselle,
The Fuzztones,
Brick,
Jeru the Damaja,
Oneida,
Matthew Bourne,
Little Man,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Divine Comedy,
Nas,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Guru Guru,
Maleditus Sound,
Scientists,
Terry Callier,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
48th St. Collective,
Kayak,
David Axelrod,
Rapeman,
Silicon Teens,
PIL,
Minny Pops,
Marc Almond,
Stereo Dub,
The Slits,
Kaleidoscope,
a-ha,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Christie,
Yazoo,
The Grass Roots,
Howard Jones,
Colin Newman,
Fat Boys,
Sarah Menescal,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
John Foxx,
Donald Byrd,
Quantec,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Dead C,
Blossom Toes,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.