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 Gabon and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Chris Corsano to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boogie Down Productions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
The Modern Lovers,
John Holt,
Ken Boothe,
Kayak,
John Foxx,
Mars,
Byron Stingily,
The Residents,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
the Association,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Dawn Penn,
The Moody Blues,
The Index,
Babytalk,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Nils Olav,
Lakeside,
Radio Birdman,
Urselle,
Lungfish,
Flipper,
Scott Walker,
The Young Rascals,
Pole,
U.S. Maple,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Grass Roots,
Glambeats Corp.,
One Last Wish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Can,
The Mojo Men,
Black Moon,
The New Christs,
Pantaleimon,
B.T. Express,
Delta 5,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lyres,
Fela Kuti,
The Monochrome Set,
Connie Case,
Royal Trux,
Altered Images,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brand Nubian,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
X-Ray Spex,
The Fuzztones,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Dave Clark Five,
Oneida,
JFA,
Pierre Henry,
Gerry Rafferty,
Joey Negro,
The Kinks,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.