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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 David Axelrod to the crunk 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Trojans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Roy Ayers,
Magma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Hill,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skriet,
Crash Course in Science,
Leonard Cohen,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Yazoo,
Al Stewart,
The Dead C,
Kevin Saunderson,
Brass Construction,
Charles Mingus,
Desert Stars,
Warsaw,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mr. Review,
Peter & Gordon,
Au Pairs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Japan,
Rapeman,
Ituana,
D'Angelo,
Ken Boothe,
Tres Demented,
Davy DMX,
Sun City Girls,
Isaac Hayes,
Icehouse,
Ludus,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kenny Larkin,
Swans,
Television Personalities,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yusef Lateef,
Patti Smith,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Neon Judgement,
Agent Orange,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Intrusion,
Crispian St. Peters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Alphaville,
Surgeon,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Main Source,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Womack,
the Normal,
Young Marble Giants,
Faraquet,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.