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 Kiribati and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Fad Gadget to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Amazonics. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Second Layer,
Warsaw,
KRS-One,
Matthew Halsall,
Freddie Wadling,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Funkadelic,
Ronnie Foster,
Gong,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Man Parrish,
Talk Talk,
Pantaleimon,
Tres Demented,
Faraquet,
Public Enemy,
The Standells,
Malaria!,
June Days,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
CMW,
Magazine,
F. McDonald,
James White and The Blacks,
The Move,
The Smiths,
Minutemen,
Trumans Water,
Niagra,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow,
Camouflage,
David Axelrod,
The Last Poets,
The Techniques,
Monks,
Zapp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Arab on Radar,
Marmalade,
The Cramps,
Janne Schatter,
Q and Not U,
the Germs,
Roy Ayers,
Pierre Henry,
Excepter,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sällskapet,
Rakim,
Radio Birdman,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Evens,
Peter and Kerry,
Ultra Naté,
Soft Machine,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.