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 Samoa and from Portland.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Marc Almond to the grunge 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 MC5. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a a-ha record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ralphi Rosario,
D'Angelo,
Model 500,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sex Pistols,
Yaz,
Dawn Penn,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Remains,
Buzzcocks,
Letta Mbulu,
Angry Samoans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
In Retrospect,
Cymande,
Bad Manners,
Eve St. Jones,
MDC,
June of 44,
The Names,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Coltrane,
Average White Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roger Hodgson,
Jerry's Kids,
Shuggie Otis,
The Dirtbombs,
UT,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kevin Saunderson,
Blancmange,
Half Japanese,
Altered Images,
Ohio Players,
Minor Threat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Mantronix,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Wyatt,
Y Pants,
Depeche Mode,
Todd Terry,
The Grass Roots,
Graham Central Station,
Marcia Griffiths,
Oneida,
Boz Scaggs,
Mad Mike,
Deadbeat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Scratch Acid,
John Foxx,
Silicon Teens,
Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach, Negative Approach.
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.