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 Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ 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 Eli Mardock to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Idris Muhammad,
Mad Mike,
Danielle Patucci,
Cheater Slicks,
The Real Kids,
Bush Tetras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The J.B.'s,
Crime,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eric Dolphy,
Boredoms,
The Last Poets,
Joy Division,
Man Parrish,
The Alarm Clocks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
Anakelly,
Sparks,
Visage,
Chris Corsano,
D'Angelo,
Ralphi Rosario,
David McCallum,
Yellowson,
Jerry Gold Smith,
H. Thieme,
Motorama,
Chrome,
Eve St. Jones,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rakim,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Japan,
Nirvana,
Desert Stars,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Bar-Kays,
Pharoah Sanders,
Derrick May,
Gang Starr,
Lyres,
Minny Pops,
John Lydon,
Byron Stingily,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
E-Dancer,
Arab on Radar,
Theoretical Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Sugar Minott,
Ultimate Spinach,
Drive Like Jehu,
Average White Band,
Intrusion,
Minnie Riperton,
Electric Light Orchestra,
ABBA,
Flamin' Groovies,
Jacques Brel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes, The Tremeloes.
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.