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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Paris.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 clarinet 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 Oblivians to the dance 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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Zapp 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The American Breed,
Rakim,
Glambeats Corp.,
Albert Ayler,
Dawn Penn,
Intrusion,
Jeff Mills,
Chrome,
Lakeside,
Livin' Joy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Skaos,
Bauhaus,
The Modern Lovers,
Don Cherry,
KRS-One,
Chris & Cosey,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
Ronnie Foster,
Yellowson,
Whodini,
Danielle Patucci,
Al Stewart,
Pole,
The Slits,
Stiv Bators,
Nils Olav,
48th St. Collective,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Public Enemy,
Hardrive,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Smiths,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Saccharine Trust,
Minny Pops,
Spandau Ballet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Reagan Youth,
Symarip,
Oneida,
Model 500,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Graham Central Station,
Procol Harum,
Jacob Miller,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joe Finger,
Main Source,
Wally Richardson,
Minnie Riperton,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reuben Wilson,
Amon Düül II,
Unwound,
Wire,
John Cale, John Cale, John Cale, John Cale.
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.