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 Malaysia and from Lagos.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 marimba 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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band to the funk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Bronski Beat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Monks,
The Move,
Danielle Patucci,
Camouflage,
Joe Smooth,
Laurel Aitken,
Sugar Minott,
JFA,
Gong,
Zapp,
Glenn Branca,
Eden Ahbez,
Aural Exciters,
Peter & Gordon,
Model 500,
Robert Görl,
Cal Tjader,
X-101,
Amon Düül,
DNA,
Average White Band,
Gang Starr,
Wolf Eyes,
Maleditus Sound,
Pussy Galore,
Matthew Halsall,
Saccharine Trust,
Wings,
Iggy Pop,
Glambeats Corp.,
EPMD,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Skatalites,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joyce Sims,
Donald Byrd,
the Fania All-Stars,
Bluetip,
John Coltrane,
The Velvet Underground,
La Düsseldorf,
Nils Olav,
Radiohead,
Suburban Knight,
The Vogues,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Reuben Wilson,
Colin Newman,
Slick Rick,
Piero Umiliani,
Bootsy Collins,
Johnny Osbourne,
Johnny Clarke,
The Modern Lovers,
Electric Prunes,
Intrusion,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Boogie Down Productions,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Rotary Connection,
Stiv Bators,
Eli Mardock,
Babytalk,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.