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 Slovenia and from Bologna.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar 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 Vladislav Delay to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fifty Foot Hose record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Niagra,
Newcleus,
Robert Wyatt,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masters at Work,
Ronnie Foster,
Sparks,
These Immortal Souls,
The Human League,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Leonard Cohen,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
48th St. Collective,
Parry Music,
Pussy Galore,
Minnie Riperton,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Radiopuhelimet,
Scrapy,
Idris Muhammad,
Amon Düül,
Alphaville,
Crash Course in Science,
Livin' Joy,
The Mummies,
The Skatalites,
Jeff Mills,
Minor Threat,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Index,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Fugazi,
Eden Ahbez,
PIL,
John Foxx,
Erasure,
Eli Mardock,
The Cowsills,
Graham Central Station,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Icehouse,
Popol Vuh,
The Standells,
The Music Machine,
UT,
The Modern Lovers,
Animal Collective,
Faraquet,
Black Moon,
F. McDonald,
Cheater Slicks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fat Boys,
Yellowson,
Barrington Levy,
Howard Jones,
Peter and Kerry,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.