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 Japan and from Houston.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Hoover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
Minutemen,
the Slits,
Con Funk Shun,
The Zeros,
The Moleskins,
The Techniques,
Grey Daturas,
Ludus,
Slave,
Eric Copeland,
The Pop Group,
Graham Central Station,
Los Fastidios,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Michelle Simonal,
Minnie Riperton,
L. Decosne,
John Cale,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cybotron,
Curtis Mayfield,
Harry Pussy,
Whodini,
Electric Prunes,
Public Enemy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Lungfish,
Vladislav Delay,
Throbbing Gristle,
Iggy Pop,
Procol Harum,
Rufus Thomas,
Dennis Brown,
Surgeon,
The Raincoats,
Dawn Penn,
Eddi Front,
Eden Ahbez,
The Neon Judgement,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pole,
the Association,
Leonard Cohen,
Connie Case,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Arcadia,
Rod Modell,
The Martian,
David Bowie,
Pussy Galore,
The Cramps,
Reagan Youth,
Peter & Gordon,
The Count Five,
Cecil Taylor,
The Walker Brothers,
ABBA,
Tomorrow,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Wake,
The United States of America,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.