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 Switzerland and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Boz Scaggs to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Man Eating Sloth. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ice-T record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Jesper Dahlback,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grey Daturas,
Pantaleimon,
Rakim,
Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Royal Trux,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Severed Heads,
Depeche Mode,
The Star Department,
Robert Wyatt,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
MDC,
Max Romeo,
Laurel Aitken,
The Index,
The Five Americans,
The Young Rascals,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Con Funk Shun,
Easy Going,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Pretty Things,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jeff Mills,
The Fortunes,
Lee Hazlewood,
AZ,
Maleditus Sound,
Average White Band,
Jacob Miller,
Spandau Ballet,
Sugar Minott,
The Techniques,
The Pop Group,
Bluetip,
Can,
John Holt,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Motions,
Idris Muhammad,
Vladislav Delay,
Joe Smooth,
Traffic Nightmare,
In Retrospect,
The Doors,
Bootsy Collins,
Bang On A Can,
Wings,
48th St. Collective,
David McCallum,
John Cale,
Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell, Rod Modell.
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.