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 Tunisia and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 linndrum 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 Camouflage to the grime 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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crash Course in Science 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Cal Tjader,
Amon Düül,
Pere Ubu,
Television Personalities,
Little Man,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Stooges,
Sam Rivers,
Gregory Isaacs,
Sixth Finger,
Sonny Sharrock,
Subhumans,
Marmalade,
Cecil Taylor,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Skriet,
Bush Tetras,
Crispian St. Peters,
Brick,
Black Sheep,
The Seeds,
Zapp,
Andrew Hill,
Jerry's Kids,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Cowsills,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kas Product,
Rod Modell,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alison Limerick,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cymande,
Soulsonic Force,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eric B and Rakim,
Ultra Naté,
Kayak,
June of 44,
This Heat,
June Days,
Mr. Review,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fela Kuti,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radio Birdman,
Khruangbin,
The Barracudas,
Mo-Dettes,
The Monks,
Swell Maps,
The J.B.'s,
MC5,
Sällskapet,
Eve St. Jones,
Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A, Accadde A.
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.