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 Kazakhstan and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the marimba 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 Rosa Yemen to the punk 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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lakeside record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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?
The J.B.'s,
Grauzone,
H. Thieme,
Fela Kuti,
Isaac Hayes,
Ice-T,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
K-Klass,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Kas Product,
Aaron Thompson,
Los Fastidios,
Liliput,
ABC,
Sarah Menescal,
Henry Cow,
Model 500,
Gabor Szabo,
The Names,
The Blues Magoos,
Lyres,
Make Up,
Spandau Ballet,
Pussy Galore,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Motions,
Bootsy Collins,
Marvin Gaye,
The Toasters,
Roy Ayers,
Stetsasonic,
X-Ray Spex,
Q and Not U,
Albert Ayler,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Standells,
Simply Red,
Roxy Music,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cal Tjader,
Black Sheep,
X-101,
Stockholm Monsters,
Fad Gadget,
The Trojans,
The Moleskins,
The Doors,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Morten Harket,
the Association,
World's Most,
Ronan,
Popol Vuh,
David Bowie,
Sixth Finger,
Mark Hollis,
Lee Hazlewood,
Radiohead,
Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5, Delta 5.
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.