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 Mauritania and from Spokane.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Winnipeg.
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 sitar 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 Arthur Verocai to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delon & Dalcan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Quadrant,
Blake Baxter,
The Monks,
Ornette Coleman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Brand Nubian,
Visage,
The Knickerbockers,
Ten City,
Agent Orange,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Popol Vuh,
Index,
Dorothy Ashby,
Moby Grape,
Gang Gang Dance,
Au Pairs,
Terry Callier,
Shoche,
Chris & Cosey,
The Moleskins,
Lightning Bolt,
Mr. Review,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Joyce Sims,
Das Ding,
Skriet,
Pet Shop Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fatback Band,
The Alarm Clocks,
Vladislav Delay,
Sight & Sound,
Bobby Hutcherson,
June of 44,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Robert Wyatt,
The Cure,
The Modern Lovers,
Vainqueur,
Darondo,
Ronnie Foster,
Colin Newman,
The Sonics,
Eurythmics,
Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
The Buckinghams,
The Durutti Column,
Connie Case,
Joe Finger,
Scott Walker,
Lyres,
Brick,
Youth Brigade,
Donald Byrd,
Procol Harum,
Cybotron,
Pylon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon.
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.