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 Czech Republic and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Busters to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Soft Cell. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Carl Craig,
DJ Style,
Camouflage,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sixth Finger,
10cc,
Amon Düül II,
Funkadelic,
Maleditus Sound,
Infiniti,
Scratch Acid,
Mandrill,
Wings,
The Flesh Eaters,
Lightning Bolt,
Newcleus,
Ronan,
Groovy Waters,
Tom Boy,
Mary Jane Girls,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sparks,
KRS-One,
The Searchers,
Adolescents,
Ultravox,
La Düsseldorf,
Can,
Lalann,
Pussy Galore,
Public Image Ltd.,
Parry Music,
Bauhaus,
Quadrant,
The Walker Brothers,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
T.S.O.L.,
The Red Krayola,
Liliput,
Albert Ayler,
The Cowsills,
Aswad,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Trojans,
Joe Smooth,
Easy Going,
Q65,
Alton Ellis,
The Dirtbombs,
DNA,
Angry Samoans,
Radiopuhelimet,
Whodini,
Soulsonic Force,
Neil Young,
Harmonia,
Johnny Osbourne,
Blake Baxter,
D'Angelo,
David McCallum,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Minny Pops,
B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express, B.T. Express.
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.