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 Uruguay and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Angels of Light to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maleditus Sound 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
World's Most,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Selecter,
Harmonia,
Yazoo,
The Martian,
Aaron Thompson,
The Trojans,
Barrington Levy,
Accadde A,
The Happenings,
Harry Pussy,
Archie Shepp,
Pole,
Cameo,
Cecil Taylor,
Tubeway Army,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oneida,
Lee Hazlewood,
Mad Mike,
Black Sheep,
Marine Girls,
Tropical Tobacco,
Technova,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Cramps,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
John Cale,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
Delta 5,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Franke,
Mars,
The Golliwogs,
Bad Manners,
Wasted Youth,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Q65,
Joensuu 1685,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fela Kuti,
Nick Fraelich,
Duran Duran,
Fear,
Blancmange,
Bootsy Collins,
China Crisis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Groovy Waters,
MC5,
Pharoah Sanders,
X-101,
Todd Rundgren,
Simply Red,
Nirvana,
Sarah Menescal,
Babytalk,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.