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 Thailand and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Fatback Band to the grime 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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant 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 crunk 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 mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Smog 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 Remains,
Black Pus,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The United States of America,
Half Japanese,
New York Dolls,
Robert Görl,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Cameo,
Amazonics,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Rod Modell,
the Germs,
Lou Reed,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Arcadia,
Tropical Tobacco,
World's Most,
The Mojo Men,
Jimmy McGriff,
Mantronix,
The Sonics,
The Martian,
Joyce Sims,
Roxette,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Suburban Knight,
X-101,
John Lydon,
The Fugs,
Outsiders,
Flipper,
Urselle,
48th St. Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
Ludus,
Freddie Wadling,
A Certain Ratio,
Brand Nubian,
Sarah Menescal,
Brothers Johnson,
Marc Almond,
Carl Craig,
Dead Boys,
Goldenarms,
Aural Exciters,
Newcleus,
The Doors,
OOIOO,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Groovy Waters,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Dennis Brown,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gregory Isaacs,
Scion,
Lalo Schifrin,
Circle Jerks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Infiniti,
Don Cherry,
Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images, Altered Images.
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.