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 Moldova and from Toronto.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the grunge 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cal Tjader 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David McCallum record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Amon Düül,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vladislav Delay,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nirvana,
Harry Pussy,
Visage,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fire Engines,
Joe Smooth,
Popol Vuh,
The Moleskins,
Japan,
One Last Wish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Aswad,
Mission of Burma,
Ohio Players,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Von Mondo,
Terry Callier,
Severed Heads,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Buzzcocks,
China Crisis,
The Durutti Column,
MDC,
Rhythm & Sound,
U.S. Maple,
Reagan Youth,
Ten City,
Television,
Leonard Cohen,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pharoah Sanders,
the Germs,
The Blues Magoos,
Circle Jerks,
The Young Rascals,
Malaria!,
Stetsasonic,
Unwound,
The Wake,
Lou Christie,
Tropical Tobacco,
Jerry's Kids,
Ituana,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
Country Joe & The Fish,
UT,
Goldenarms,
James White and The Blacks,
The Busters,
Dawn Penn,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Skatalites,
the Human League,
Eden Ahbez,
Lindisfarne,
Fluxion,
Shoche,
Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant, Quadrant.
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.