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 Ukraine and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 güiro 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 Sarah Menescal to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 The Offenders. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Amon Düül II,
Pantytec,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
Reuben Wilson,
Connie Case,
Soulsonic Force,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Mr. Review,
The Modern Lovers,
Lalann,
Agent Orange,
The Stooges,
Warren Ellis,
Eden Ahbez,
The Smoke,
The Electric Prunes,
Charles Mingus,
Eric Copeland,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ludus,
JFA,
The Searchers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
AZ,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lower 48,
Au Pairs,
Al Stewart,
Second Layer,
Sister Nancy,
Radio Birdman,
June of 44,
The Motions,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Banda Bassotti,
David Bowie,
Thee Headcoats,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Byron Stingily,
Anthony Braxton,
Smog,
T.S.O.L.,
10cc,
Isaac Hayes,
Section 25,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Slits,
Wally Richardson,
The Slackers,
Marmalade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Excepter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Metal Thangz,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.