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 Angola and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the jazz 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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All Desert Stars 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 crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
Rekid,
The Cure,
The Moleskins,
John Foxx,
The Slits,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Roy Ayers,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Drive Like Jehu,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Q65,
Eddi Front,
Newcleus,
Barry Ungar,
Technova,
Fugazi,
The Count Five,
The Durutti Column,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Detroit Cobras,
Hashim,
Funkadelic,
DJ Sneak,
Excepter,
E-Dancer,
Audionom,
Heaven 17,
Juan Atkins,
Faraquet,
Pylon,
The Music Machine,
Livin' Joy,
Scientists,
The Human League,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harmonia,
Suburban Knight,
The Residents,
Bobby Womack,
Public Enemy,
F. McDonald,
Gong,
kango's stein massive,
Roxette,
Ultra Naté,
Second Layer,
Deakin,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scott Walker,
The Martian,
Intrusion,
The Names,
Blossom Toes,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gabor Szabo,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Trojans,
Nick Fraelich,
Fear,
Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu, Erykah Badu.
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.