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 Latvia and from Spokane.
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 Lagos and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Robert Palmer 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 Erykah Badu to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All The Victims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Loose Ends,
The American Breed,
Negative Approach,
Erasure,
Charles Mingus,
Agent Orange,
Yusef Lateef,
L. Decosne,
Frankie Knuckles,
T.S.O.L.,
Index,
Eli Mardock,
Chrome,
The Golliwogs,
Stereo Dub,
Scott Walker,
John Lydon,
Jacques Brel,
Underground Resistance,
MDC,
Y Pants,
Bill Wells,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Fall,
Basic Channel,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mission of Burma,
Rekid,
Mr. Review,
Gang Green,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Drexciya,
Mandrill,
Donald Byrd,
Jandek,
Model 500,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Peter and Kerry,
The Barracudas,
Junior Murvin,
Dawn Penn,
Black Moon,
Lebanon Hanover,
Trumans Water,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Qualms,
Hot Snakes,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Mars,
Slave,
The Black Dice,
Kevin Saunderson,
Drive Like Jehu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Bob Dylan,
Suburban Knight,
Bad Manners,
Tres Demented,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Womack,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.