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 Somalia and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Blossom Toes to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Model 500 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Buzzcocks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lucky Dragons,
Mandrill,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bang On A Can,
Black Pus,
Freddie Wadling,
Stereo Dub,
John Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Germs,
Zapp,
La Düsseldorf,
Sparks,
Archie Shepp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Theoretical Girls,
The Moody Blues,
the Swans,
Wasted Youth,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ralphi Rosario,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers,
Crime,
Lower 48,
Echospace,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bill Wells,
the Fania All-Stars,
Al Stewart,
Jeff Mills,
Marmalade,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Model 500,
Ludus,
The Gap Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Altered Images,
Simply Red,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marcia Griffiths,
Royal Trux,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Isaac Hayes,
Babytalk,
Sarah Menescal,
New Order,
Colin Newman,
Shuggie Otis,
Severed Heads,
R.M.O.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lalo Schifrin,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rhythm & Sound,
X-Ray Spex,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.