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 Poland and from Johannesburg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar 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 New York Dolls to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stooges. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sam Rivers,
The Count Five,
Man Parrish,
Mo-Dettes,
Los Fastidios,
Magazine,
Tropical Tobacco,
Rufus Thomas,
Tim Buckley,
Throbbing Gristle,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Althea and Donna,
Kerrie Biddell,
La Düsseldorf,
Zapp,
The Cure,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wasted Youth,
Severed Heads,
ABBA,
This Heat,
Rites of Spring,
Alton Ellis,
John Foxx,
Minny Pops,
Absolute Body Control,
The Monks,
Motorama,
The Selecter,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pantaleimon,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
Avey Tare,
Alphaville,
Prince Buster,
Crispy Ambulance,
Nik Kershaw,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Five Americans,
Pharoah Sanders,
D'Angelo,
Big Daddy Kane,
Black Sheep,
Swans,
H. Thieme,
Eric Dolphy,
Silicon Teens,
Shuggie Otis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Birthday Party,
Marine Girls,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rotary Connection,
Reuben Wilson,
The Stooges,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Porter Ricks,
The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues, The Vogues.
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.