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 Tuvalu and from Calgary.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Tremeloes to the punk 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Second Layer 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord 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 güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Pere Ubu,
Pole,
Jesper Dahlback,
Skarface,
Kool Moe Dee,
Junior Murvin,
Patti Smith,
Frankie Knuckles,
New York Dolls,
Terry Callier,
Ultravox,
Cymande,
Basic Channel,
The Durutti Column,
The Fuzztones,
Brick,
Magazine,
The Doors,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Martian,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Black Dice,
The Mojo Men,
ABBA,
Bluetip,
Sight & Sound,
The Residents,
Pulsallama,
Ronan,
The Fall,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nation of Ulysses,
The New Christs,
Susan Cadogan,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Remains,
The Birthday Party,
X-Ray Spex,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Derrick Morgan,
the Sonics,
Massinfluence,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yaz,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Almond,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Panda Bear,
Faraquet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Cybotron,
David Bowie,
KRS-One,
Girls At Our Best!,
Funky Four + One,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch, Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch.
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.