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 Austria and from Accra.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ice-T,
Davy DMX,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
The Gun Club,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jandek,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wally Richardson,
UT,
Fear,
Terry Callier,
Henry Cow,
Magazine,
Intrusion,
Newcleus,
Scientists,
Main Source,
Soulsonic Force,
the Slits,
James White and The Blacks,
Harry Pussy,
Bauhaus,
The Walker Brothers,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
The United States of America,
Kerrie Biddell,
June of 44,
The Saints,
Fatback Band,
DJ Sneak,
Jacob Miller,
Nils Olav,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Boogie Down Productions,
kango's stein massive,
Neil Young,
the Bar-Kays,
R.M.O.,
The Count Five,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Smiths,
Derrick Morgan,
Tommy Roe,
The Gories,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Patti Smith,
Bluetip,
Whodini,
Delta 5,
The Vogues,
Stockholm Monsters,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.