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 Argentina and from Bremen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Accra.
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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Hot Snakes to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lalo Schifrin. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cecil Taylor,
The New Christs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sun City Girls,
The Real Kids,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Fela Kuti,
Shoche,
Oneida,
Desert Stars,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Japan,
John Holt,
Ice-T,
Roy Ayers,
Agitation Free,
Pylon,
Panda Bear,
The Seeds,
Camberwell Now,
Icehouse,
CMW,
Harpers Bizarre,
Howard Jones,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Crooked Eye,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
LL Cool J,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Cowsills,
Khruangbin,
Mo-Dettes,
Oblivians,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Doobie Brothers,
F. McDonald,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Dirtbombs,
Soul II Soul,
Crime,
Bizarre Inc.,
Babytalk,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Normal,
New York Dolls,
Gil Scott Heron,
China Crisis,
Smog,
Chrome,
Cheater Slicks,
Cluster,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Glenn Branca,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Monks,
The Blackbyrds,
Essential Logic,
The American Breed,
E-Dancer,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.