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 Botswana and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Last Poets to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Simply Red. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
The Cosmic Jokers,
the Fania All-Stars,
Terrestrial Tones,
Freddie Wadling,
Absolute Body Control,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Godley & Creme,
Arthur Verocai,
Radio Birdman,
Joy Division,
The Barracudas,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Darondo,
Radiohead,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ultra Naté,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Harry Pussy,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Wyatt,
Goldenarms,
Peter & Gordon,
Donald Byrd,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Masters at Work,
The Gap Band,
K-Klass,
Sixth Finger,
Talk Talk,
Fela Kuti,
Drive Like Jehu,
Das Ding,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brick,
Sandy B,
June of 44,
Y Pants,
Reagan Youth,
Moebius,
Bad Manners,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Make Up,
The Neon Judgement,
Tropical Tobacco,
Urselle,
Joe Finger,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Max Romeo,
Swans,
EPMD,
Siglo XX,
The Knickerbockers,
Babytalk,
Lower 48,
L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne, L. Decosne.
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.