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 Cameroon and from Salvador.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Salvador.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jerry's Kids to the dance 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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neu! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
The Barracudas,
Supertramp,
David Bowie,
Crooked Eye,
The Flesh Eaters,
Harmonia,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
John Cale,
Sandy B,
Aloha Tigers,
Mr. Review,
Fad Gadget,
The Happenings,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kayak,
Don Cherry,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Terrestrial Tones,
Minor Threat,
The Leaves,
the Germs,
The Doors,
Crispy Ambulance,
Qualms,
Crime,
Yellowson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Coltrane,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Babytalk,
Arthur Verocai,
World's Most,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mark Hollis,
Quantec,
Monks,
Prince Buster,
The Grass Roots,
Susan Cadogan,
Wally Richardson,
Symarip,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gichy Dan,
Eurythmics,
Oblivians,
Tommy Roe,
Black Sheep,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Royal Trux,
The New Christs,
The Red Krayola,
The Invisible,
Public Image Ltd.,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-102,
Graham Central Station,
Lebanon Hanover,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.