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 Seychelles and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Donald Fagen 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 Mission of Burma to the disco 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 Fela Kuti. All the underground hits.
All X-Ray Spex tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gastr Del Sol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
The Leaves,
Visage,
The Raincoats,
Groovy Waters,
Slave,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Byron Stingily,
Dennis Brown,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Young Rascals,
Scratch Acid,
Laurel Aitken,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Shoche,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Man Parrish,
Gong,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Camouflage,
The Last Poets,
the Bar-Kays,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Warren Ellis,
Sixth Finger,
Ludus,
the Soft Cell,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Pantytec,
kango's stein massive,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mars,
Niagra,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cecil Taylor,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Happenings,
Max Romeo,
Barbara Tucker,
Unrelated Segments,
Cluster,
The Invisible,
Massinfluence,
Matthew Halsall,
Isaac Hayes,
Section 25,
Johnny Osbourne,
Average White Band,
Harry Pussy,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eden Ahbez,
The Divine Comedy,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
The Buckinghams,
Anakelly,
Gang Green,
Buzzcocks,
Archie Shepp,
X-Ray Spex,
Japan,
Leonard Cohen,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.