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 Mauritius and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Copenhagen.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar 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 The Gories to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Techniques 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Prince Buster,
Rhythm & Sound,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Lynne,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
D'Angelo,
Subhumans,
Q and Not U,
Lou Christie,
Bobby Sherman,
Mr. Review,
The Victims,
Black Pus,
The Kinks,
48th St. Collective,
The Barracudas,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nirvana,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Main Source,
Tubeway Army,
Howard Jones,
The Moody Blues,
John Cale,
Camberwell Now,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Niagra,
Qualms,
the Swans,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
The Motions,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Cheater Slicks,
The Durutti Column,
Massinfluence,
Procol Harum,
Derrick May,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eric Dolphy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Darondo,
New Age Steppers,
The Shadows of Knight,
Warren Ellis,
The Gun Club,
Radio Birdman,
Y Pants,
The Fuzztones,
Arcadia,
Cluster,
Soft Cell,
Ohio Players,
Theoretical Girls,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Unwound,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pantytec,
E-Dancer,
This Heat,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Dorothy Ashby,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.