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 Angola and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Drive Like Jehu to the rock 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Electric Prunes,
Bill Wells,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Cheater Slicks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crash Course in Science,
Godley & Creme,
The Names,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pulsallama,
Black Pus,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ten City,
The Angels of Light,
Joe Smooth,
James White and The Blacks,
Marshall Jefferson,
Bang On A Can,
Aural Exciters,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Bowie,
Lower 48,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Procol Harum,
The Motions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Television,
Niagra,
Bootsy Collins,
David Axelrod,
Faust,
Fela Kuti,
The Zeros,
Isaac Hayes,
Mr. Review,
Cymande,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Siglo XX,
Black Flag,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pussy Galore,
Cluster,
Erykah Badu,
Mars,
The Cure,
Public Enemy,
UT,
The Cowsills,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Japan,
Groovy Waters,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bobby Womack,
Dark Day,
The American Breed,
The Beau Brummels,
Archie Shepp,
Lindisfarne,
Lou Reed,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.