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 Thailand and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Depeche Mode to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Whodini,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Fugazi,
Darondo,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scratch Acid,
The Dirtbombs,
Janne Schatter,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Dual Sessions,
Arthur Verocai,
The Wake,
The Victims,
The Cowsills,
Deadbeat,
Archie Shepp,
Gang Green,
Agent Orange,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Drexciya,
Fatback Band,
Electric Prunes,
Yazoo,
Cheater Slicks,
U.S. Maple,
The Gap Band,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
The Pop Group,
Idris Muhammad,
the Fania All-Stars,
Slick Rick,
Y Pants,
Moebius,
Brand Nubian,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Buzzcocks,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool Moe Dee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Yusef Lateef,
Cymande,
Boredoms,
Barbara Tucker,
Stockholm Monsters,
Quadrant,
Audionom,
JFA,
The Fire Engines,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Blackbyrds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Trumans Water,
Kas Product,
the Bar-Kays,
John Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
Tres Demented,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Cal Tjader,
Warsaw,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.