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 Liechtenstein and from Bremen.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 clarinet 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 Jawbox to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Blancmange. All the underground hits.
All Scion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
Ten City,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Crooked Eye,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Young Rascals,
The Cure,
Slick Rick,
Thee Headcoats,
Porter Ricks,
Zero Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Q and Not U,
The Sound,
Susan Cadogan,
Chrome,
The Count Five,
Country Teasers,
Bobby Womack,
Jimmy McGriff,
Icehouse,
Fela Kuti,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rotary Connection,
The Blues Magoos,
The Names,
Morten Harket,
MDC,
EPMD,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ponytail,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Matthew Bourne,
Gil Scott Heron,
Janne Schatter,
Isaac Hayes,
Sarah Menescal,
The Standells,
Skarface,
Laurel Aitken,
Kerri Chandler,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
8 Eyed Spy,
Josef K,
Yusef Lateef,
Inner City,
Little Man,
Lebanon Hanover,
Joe Finger,
Jeru the Damaja,
Agent Orange,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Searchers,
Unwound,
Rites of Spring,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Evens,
Alison Limerick,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.