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 South Africa and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 güiro 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 The Leaves to the grunge 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 MDC. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marvin Gaye record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
Cheater Slicks,
the Bar-Kays,
This Heat,
The Mojo Men,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Smog,
Rod Modell,
Heaven 17,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Grey Daturas,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barry Ungar,
Black Sheep,
Livin' Joy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Peter and Kerry,
Buzzcocks,
Dave Gahan,
Michelle Simonal,
The Remains,
Youth Brigade,
Darondo,
Negative Approach,
Harmonia,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Malaria!,
New Age Steppers,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Young Rascals,
Animal Collective,
Man Eating Sloth,
K-Klass,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Ponytail,
Ornette Coleman,
Gang Green,
Mary Jane Girls,
Crime,
Hashim,
The Pretty Things,
Jandek,
Thee Headcoats,
Arthur Verocai,
The Kinks,
Royal Trux,
Wire,
Massinfluence,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gap Band,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Scrapy,
The Names,
Minor Threat,
Mark Hollis,
John Holt,
Susan Cadogan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Real Kids,
The Doors,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free, Agitation Free.
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.