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 Ecuador and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 spring reverb 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 Gap Band to the electroclash 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 Slick Rick. All the underground hits.
All Crooked Eye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Green record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Litter,
Boogie Down Productions,
Byron Stingily,
Mandrill,
Roxy Music,
The Martian,
Cal Tjader,
Rotary Connection,
Terrestrial Tones,
Magma,
Schoolly D,
David McCallum,
Cymande,
Kenny Larkin,
Sun Ra,
The Music Machine,
Qualms,
The Buckinghams,
Hoover,
Pylon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Barbara Tucker,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mars,
Ituana,
The Vogues,
Aaron Thompson,
Severed Heads,
Groovy Waters,
Sight & Sound,
Ludus,
Dead Boys,
Derrick May,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Misunderstood,
Jeff Mills,
Rufus Thomas,
Robert Hood,
Oneida,
The Index,
Arthur Verocai,
Minor Threat,
Neu!,
Trumans Water,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Babytalk,
Drexciya,
Throbbing Gristle,
Shoche,
James White and The Blacks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Michelle Simonal,
New Age Steppers,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
Altered Images,
Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel, Jacques Brel.
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.