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 Suriname and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Bang On A Can to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Pantytec. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Swans,
Minor Threat,
Yaz,
The United States of America,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Alison Limerick,
Skarface,
The Velvet Underground,
Jacques Brel,
The Searchers,
Malaria!,
Moebius,
Rosa Yemen,
Pagans,
Oneida,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Tremeloes,
Ultra Naté,
K-Klass,
Circle Jerks,
June Days,
Davy DMX,
The Music Machine,
The Saints,
The Cowsills,
cv313,
Prince Buster,
EPMD,
John Holt,
Josef K,
T. Rex,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Isaac Hayes,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alton Ellis,
World's Most,
X-101,
Minutemen,
The Busters,
Roy Ayers,
Sällskapet,
The Buckinghams,
Shoche,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Coltrane,
Mandrill,
Fad Gadget,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gabor Szabo,
Michelle Simonal,
Rekid,
Byron Stingily,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.