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 Colombia and from Philadelphia.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Moby Grape to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Danielle Patucci tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hardrive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Siglo XX,
Inner City,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
kango's stein massive,
Slick Rick,
Qualms,
The Fire Engines,
Cymande,
Index,
John Cale,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
The Associates,
Magazine,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Crispian St. Peters,
Stereo Dub,
A Certain Ratio,
Vladislav Delay,
Derrick Morgan,
Tres Demented,
Fat Boys,
Pet Shop Boys,
Funkadelic,
Nas,
Scion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Arcadia,
The Young Rascals,
The Modern Lovers,
The Barracudas,
Yellowson,
DJ Style,
The Fall,
Bobby Byrd,
Oblivians,
Donny Hathaway,
Letta Mbulu,
Mission of Burma,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pole,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bauhaus,
Swans,
Aural Exciters,
Marc Almond,
Lyres,
Marcia Griffiths,
Franke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Subhumans,
Public Image Ltd.,
Mad Mike,
The Move,
Kurtis Blow,
Joyce Sims,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.