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 Ivory Coast and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 synthesizer 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 The Electric Prunes to the electroclash 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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Lindisfarne,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Dawn Penn,
Donald Byrd,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Mars,
Dorothy Ashby,
Suicide,
John Lydon,
This Heat,
Nils Olav,
The Modern Lovers,
The Durutti Column,
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Negative Approach,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bob Dylan,
Kenny Larkin,
Second Layer,
Barrington Levy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Smoke,
Susan Cadogan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Depeche Mode,
Barry Ungar,
Marvin Gaye,
Circle Jerks,
Mary Jane Girls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quadrant,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scott Walker,
Section 25,
Jawbox,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Juan Atkins,
Marmalade,
Darondo,
PIL,
Schoolly D,
The Remains,
Stockholm Monsters,
Todd Rundgren,
James White and The Blacks,
The Vogues,
Henry Cow,
Deadbeat,
The Pretty Things,
The Buckinghams,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lyres,
E-Dancer,
The Skatalites,
The Detroit Cobras,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pantaleimon,
Albert Ayler,
Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion, Fluxion.
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.