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 Kyrgyzstan and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 theremin 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 a-ha 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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bill Wells record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Alarm Clocks,
Toni Rubio,
Los Fastidios,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Selecter,
Soul II Soul,
Bobby Sherman,
48th St. Collective,
Can,
Peter and Kerry,
Andrew Hill,
Connie Case,
Jeff Lynne,
Throbbing Gristle,
Joyce Sims,
CMW,
a-ha,
Mary Jane Girls,
Rosa Yemen,
Massinfluence,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Second Layer,
Spandau Ballet,
Eric Dolphy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sandy B,
Magma,
Michelle Simonal,
Black Bananas,
Neu!,
Dark Day,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Brothers Johnson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Angels of Light,
Delta 5,
Funkadelic,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Skarface,
Matthew Halsall,
Rod Modell,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mars,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Wolf Eyes,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
Joe Finger,
Reuben Wilson,
Trumans Water,
The Martian,
L. Decosne,
Niagra,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Oblivians,
The Count Five,
The Neon Judgement,
Fear,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.