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 Grenada and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 808 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 Slick Rick to the disco 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marshall Jefferson,
Ultravox,
Depeche Mode,
Smog,
The Stooges,
Kenny Larkin,
Warsaw,
The Dave Clark Five,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ultra Naté,
Black Flag,
Supertramp,
The Gun Club,
Ossler,
DJ Sneak,
Au Pairs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Tim Buckley,
The Martian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Swans,
June of 44,
Quadrant,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fire Engines,
Bobby Womack,
Negative Approach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Babytalk,
EPMD,
The Count Five,
Bauhaus,
Johnny Osbourne,
Harry Pussy,
PIL,
Sam Rivers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Buzzcocks,
Outsiders,
Colin Newman,
Goldenarms,
Main Source,
Scott Walker,
Dual Sessions,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Janne Schatter,
The Residents,
Mr. Review,
Deakin,
Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Prince Buster,
Heaven 17,
The Velvet Underground,
Dark Day,
Sister Nancy,
Rhythm & Sound,
DNA,
The Mummies,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.