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 Antigua and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Black Dice 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 Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Jimmy McGriff,
Todd Terry,
Hasil Adkins,
Electric Prunes,
Animal Collective,
Thee Headcoats,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lou Christie,
Lalann,
The Tremeloes,
Pantaleimon,
Clear Light,
The Remains,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Chrome,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Derrick May,
Man Parrish,
Robert Wyatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Dead C,
The Victims,
Sarah Menescal,
H. Thieme,
Joe Finger,
Wings,
ABC,
The Doobie Brothers,
Scan 7,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stiv Bators,
Mr. Review,
Byron Stingily,
Silicon Teens,
Con Funk Shun,
Gang Green,
Cecil Taylor,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Whodini,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
The Toasters,
Eric Copeland,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Reuben Wilson,
Ronnie Foster,
The Gories,
Easy Going,
Television,
Eve St. Jones,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gabor Szabo,
T.S.O.L.,
Nik Kershaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.