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 Botswana and from Tokyo.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Banda Bassotti to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Gabor Szabo. All the underground hits.
All The Slackers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kaleidoscope,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Fire Engines,
Scientists,
F. McDonald,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Association,
U.S. Maple,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pulsallama,
Underground Resistance,
June Days,
The Monochrome Set,
Ronnie Foster,
The Moody Blues,
Barrington Levy,
the Germs,
Rites of Spring,
Mo-Dettes,
One Last Wish,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
Graham Central Station,
The Slackers,
Porter Ricks,
Qualms,
Radio Birdman,
The Shadows of Knight,
La Düsseldorf,
Steve Hackett,
Tommy Roe,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gong,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Public Enemy,
Junior Murvin,
Das Ding,
Blossom Toes,
Dennis Brown,
Judy Mowatt,
Rhythm & Sound,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Red Krayola,
Althea and Donna,
Blancmange,
Donny Hathaway,
Royal Trux,
The Smoke,
Unrelated Segments,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
OOIOO,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Blackbyrds,
The Standells,
Idris Muhammad,
The United States of America,
the Slits,
Cymande,
Minutemen,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force, Soul Sonic Force.
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.