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 Jordan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Lee Hazlewood to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All F. McDonald tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sarah Menescal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lee Hazlewood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Motorama,
Easy Going,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Robert Hood,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Detroit Cobras,
Jerry Gold Smith,
In Retrospect,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Mummies,
Pierre Henry,
Rapeman,
Theoretical Girls,
The Cowsills,
Max Romeo,
MDC,
The Saints,
Porter Ricks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Techniques,
Alphaville,
The Beau Brummels,
Nick Fraelich,
Anthony Braxton,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
48th St. Collective,
Symarip,
Fatback Band,
Smog,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Bauhaus,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Gories,
David Bowie,
Unwound,
Absolute Body Control,
Gichy Dan,
Fad Gadget,
Main Source,
K-Klass,
Blossom Toes,
Todd Terry,
Grandmaster Flash,
Derrick Morgan,
Pagans,
DNA,
The Seeds,
Sam Rivers,
Tim Buckley,
The Doors,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Nils Olav,
Pussy Galore,
Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp, Supertramp.
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.