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 Belgium and from Paris.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Colin Newman to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jeru the Damaja. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Ornette Coleman,
Dawn Penn,
PIL,
Can,
Bobby Hutcherson,
DJ Style,
The Invisible,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Los Fastidios,
Don Cherry,
Archie Shepp,
Heaven 17,
Barbara Tucker,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Kerri Chandler,
Neil Young,
Stereo Dub,
The Gories,
Boz Scaggs,
Warsaw,
The Music Machine,
Sixth Finger,
Oneida,
Ten City,
Roger Hodgson,
David Axelrod,
Blancmange,
Nas,
The Moleskins,
James White and The Blacks,
Radiohead,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Todd Terry,
Mary Jane Girls,
David Bowie,
The Victims,
Sonic Youth,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Underground Resistance,
Adolescents,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lalo Schifrin,
Patti Smith,
Maleditus Sound,
Ultra Naté,
Kenny Larkin,
Pere Ubu,
Masters at Work,
Jimmy McGriff,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dirtbombs,
Radio Birdman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Camberwell Now,
Average White Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.