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 Tanzania and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 snare 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 Little Man 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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mars 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Last Poets,
Silicon Teens,
The Gladiators,
Amon Düül II,
the Swans,
Metal Thangz,
MDC,
Sight & Sound,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Boredoms,
The Fortunes,
Sexual Harrassment,
Mandrill,
Glenn Branca,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Red Krayola,
Scrapy,
Siglo XX,
The Trojans,
Black Bananas,
The Stooges,
The Searchers,
Derrick May,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
kango's stein massive,
Black Moon,
Flipper,
Kenny Larkin,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Todd Rundgren,
The Fall,
Roxy Music,
Fluxion,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Leonard Cohen,
The Saints,
The Music Machine,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Steve Hackett,
Don Cherry,
Country Teasers,
Glambeats Corp.,
Jawbox,
Drexciya,
Ornette Coleman,
the Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
Oneida,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang of Four,
Nico,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
JFA,
Crash Course in Science,
ABC, ABC, ABC, ABC.
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.