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 Solomon Islands and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Knickerbockers to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Jesus and Mary Chain. All the underground hits.
All The Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brand Nubian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacob Miller,
The Evens,
New York Dolls,
LL Cool J,
Intrusion,
the Normal,
Lou Christie,
Fear,
Roger Hodgson,
Urselle,
Slick Rick,
Gang Starr,
The Grass Roots,
Cecil Taylor,
Panda Bear,
Lebanon Hanover,
Soulsonic Force,
E-Dancer,
James White and The Blacks,
The Smoke,
Agitation Free,
B.T. Express,
Boogie Down Productions,
Parry Music,
ABBA,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Ralphi Rosario,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Technova,
Index,
The Doors,
Wire,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gang Green,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Gang Dance,
The New Christs,
The Mighty Diamonds,
X-102,
Japan,
Michelle Simonal,
Grey Daturas,
Oblivians,
Angry Samoans,
Marine Girls,
Surgeon,
the Slits,
Television Personalities,
Bob Dylan,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pulsallama,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Skarface,
the Sonics,
Monolake,
The Star Department,
Zero Boys,
This Heat,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marmalade,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.