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 Vietnam and from Lyon.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
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 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 Eric Dolphy to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eve St. Jones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Stooges,
Skriet,
Grauzone,
Sex Pistols,
The Mummies,
The Trojans,
Can,
Television,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
John Cale,
Babytalk,
Saccharine Trust,
Eve St. Jones,
Magma,
The Golliwogs,
Kerrie Biddell,
La Düsseldorf,
L. Decosne,
Eric Dolphy,
Max Romeo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
John Holt,
OOIOO,
Kas Product,
The Names,
Depeche Mode,
the Swans,
Warsaw,
Brick,
Albert Ayler,
Archie Shepp,
Thompson Twins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Barracudas,
Tropical Tobacco,
UT,
U.S. Maple,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Victims,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Nik Kershaw,
Juan Atkins,
Black Sheep,
The Misunderstood,
Subhumans,
Joyce Sims,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
Minny Pops,
Buzzcocks,
Hashim,
Joe Smooth,
One Last Wish,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nils Olav,
Cluster,
Eli Mardock,
Mark Hollis,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.