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 Azerbaijan and from Lille.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Maurizio to the techno 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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
Tom Boy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
One Last Wish,
Dual Sessions,
The Pretty Things,
Make Up,
Whodini,
Wire,
Bobby Sherman,
Amazonics,
Popol Vuh,
Dark Day,
The Skatalites,
Lakeside,
John Coltrane,
The Sound,
Robert Hood,
Boz Scaggs,
X-102,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Tropical Tobacco,
Funkadelic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Underground Resistance,
Crime,
Nirvana,
Rotary Connection,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
Das Ding,
Avey Tare,
John Holt,
Eric B and Rakim,
Mo-Dettes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joey Negro,
Chrome,
Davy DMX,
Reuben Wilson,
Pylon,
Ultravox,
Easy Going,
DNA,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Fugs,
Faraquet,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Parry Music,
Symarip,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eric Dolphy,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Misunderstood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Flash Fearless,
Mr. Review,
The Alarm Clocks,
Yusef Lateef,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.