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 Dominica 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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 sitar 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 Absolute Body Control 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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
The Selecter,
Gabor Szabo,
Bluetip,
Grey Daturas,
Yellowson,
Nick Fraelich,
Tom Boy,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Neon Judgement,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Symarip,
Excepter,
B.T. Express,
Audionom,
Gregory Isaacs,
Animal Collective,
Joe Finger,
Los Fastidios,
New Age Steppers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sparks,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
Talk Talk,
Slave,
Unwound,
EPMD,
The Buckinghams,
X-101,
Jacob Miller,
Robert Görl,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Chris Corsano,
Minny Pops,
Piero Umiliani,
David McCallum,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cameo,
Desert Stars,
Maurizio,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
Circle Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Crispian St. Peters,
Boz Scaggs,
Unrelated Segments,
Sugar Minott,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
The Angels of Light,
Alison Limerick,
Henry Cow,
David Axelrod,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rekid,
The Knickerbockers,
Erykah Badu,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.