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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Glasgow.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Deepchord to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mark Hollis 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?
Grey Daturas,
Jacob Miller,
The Birthday Party,
Brass Construction,
K-Klass,
Inner City,
Sam Rivers,
The Moleskins,
Brick,
Q65,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Cramps,
Dark Day,
Nick Fraelich,
Mr. Review,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
The Seeds,
The Cowsills,
Derrick Morgan,
T. Rex,
Duran Duran,
Don Cherry,
Terry Callier,
Zapp,
Monks,
Hashim,
Maurizio,
World's Most,
Leonard Cohen,
Ice-T,
Bauhaus,
Brothers Johnson,
The Grass Roots,
Newcleus,
Rakim,
Cal Tjader,
Kurtis Blow,
The Velvet Underground,
Lakeside,
Ultra Naté,
Bob Dylan,
The Sonics,
Motorama,
Silicon Teens,
Gang Starr,
Brand Nubian,
The Saints,
Erasure,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rod Modell,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Neon Judgement,
The Moody Blues,
Wolf Eyes,
Technova,
Terrestrial Tones,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Fuzztones,
Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn, Dawn Penn.
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.