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 Gambia and from Mexico City.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Carl Craig to the jazz 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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stiv Bators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Flamin' Groovies,
Nirvana,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Index,
Terry Callier,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fear,
Supertramp,
The Associates,
Robert Görl,
Sound Behaviour,
Essential Logic,
Soul Sonic Force,
Section 25,
The Busters,
Agitation Free,
The Dead C,
The Kinks,
The Walker Brothers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Echospace,
Gang Gang Dance,
Quantec,
Throbbing Gristle,
Qualms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Au Pairs,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Tremeloes,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ralphi Rosario,
Laurel Aitken,
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
Lightning Bolt,
Intrusion,
Youth Brigade,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Byrd,
ABBA,
Anthony Braxton,
Monks,
Don Cherry,
Aloha Tigers,
Nas,
Crooked Eye,
Basic Channel,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Groovy Waters,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Robert Wyatt,
Aaron Thompson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kas Product,
Juan Atkins,
Grauzone,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.