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 Seychelles and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 cv313 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 Ludus. All the underground hits.
All Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lucky Dragons record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Men They Couldn't Hang record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Howard Jones,
H. Thieme,
Delta 5,
Tommy Roe,
The Fire Engines,
Lee Hazlewood,
Underground Resistance,
Jacob Miller,
Clear Light,
Bootsy Collins,
Marvin Gaye,
Thompson Twins,
The Durutti Column,
The Zeros,
June of 44,
David McCallum,
Rotary Connection,
Ronan,
Tres Demented,
Liliput,
Chrome,
The Raincoats,
Y Pants,
Derrick May,
Ken Boothe,
The Vogues,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Mojo Men,
Index,
The Motions,
The Gories,
Fugazi,
Main Source,
Black Flag,
Skaos,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
Sixth Finger,
Gregory Isaacs,
Chris Corsano,
OOIOO,
Avey Tare,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
Camouflage,
Eurythmics,
Michelle Simonal,
Sonic Youth,
Archie Shepp,
Blake Baxter,
Kayak,
Zapp,
EPMD,
Kenny Larkin,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Japan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays, the Bar-Kays.
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.