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 Lesotho and from Tehran.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Black Dice to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
Lou Reed,
Wally Richardson,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Soul Sonic Force,
Dark Day,
Outsiders,
The Move,
Godley & Creme,
Gabor Szabo,
The Remains,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Colin Newman,
Fluxion,
Harry Pussy,
The Fortunes,
Los Fastidios,
The Kinks,
Procol Harum,
Ossler,
Jeru the Damaja,
Boz Scaggs,
The Detroit Cobras,
New York Dolls,
The Victims,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Loose Ends,
Anthony Braxton,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bauhaus,
Jacob Miller,
Intrusion,
Aswad,
Boredoms,
The Smoke,
The Saints,
the Swans,
The Happenings,
David McCallum,
Scrapy,
Khruangbin,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Steve Hackett,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Techniques,
Rakim,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Michelle Simonal,
ABC,
Maurizio,
X-101,
Big Daddy Kane,
Guru Guru,
LL Cool J,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Surgeon,
Yazoo,
Black Bananas,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.