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 Canada and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 chamberlin 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 The Alarm Clocks to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Matthew Halsall. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every KRS-One 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blake Baxter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Raincoats,
JFA,
Robert Hood,
Rosa Yemen,
Monolake,
Yaz,
Boredoms,
The American Breed,
Maleditus Sound,
Harry Pussy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The United States of America,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Mr. Review,
Gang Starr,
The Techniques,
Deakin,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Offenders,
Cal Tjader,
Joe Finger,
Pulsallama,
Quando Quango,
Franke,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Detroit Cobras,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Liliput,
Goldenarms,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Section 25,
Grauzone,
Stetsasonic,
Idris Muhammad,
Jacob Miller,
Blancmange,
Tres Demented,
the Normal,
Lalann,
Talk Talk,
DNA,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Sherman,
Wolf Eyes,
David Axelrod,
Ronan,
The Standells,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
B.T. Express,
Yusef Lateef,
Procol Harum,
Brass Construction,
Carl Craig,
Rufus Thomas,
the Sonics,
ABBA,
Public Enemy,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.