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 Romania and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Eric B and Rakim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Harpers Bizarre. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
The Gories,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Terry Callier,
Mars,
MDC,
Von Mondo,
The Black Dice,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Henry Cow,
Smog,
The Seeds,
The Mummies,
Sound Behaviour,
D'Angelo,
Vainqueur,
The Doors,
The Index,
Sex Pistols,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
Cybotron,
Ponytail,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Evens,
Harmonia,
Sun City Girls,
Roxette,
FM Einheit,
Radiopuhelimet,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Outsiders,
The Human League,
Quando Quango,
Fear,
Bauhaus,
Harry Pussy,
KRS-One,
Eric Copeland,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ken Boothe,
Curtis Mayfield,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Toni Rubio,
Deakin,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Busters,
H. Thieme,
Mantronix,
Lee Hazlewood,
Flash Fearless,
the Soft Cell,
The Vogues,
Drexciya,
Dual Sessions,
Bad Manners,
The Residents,
The Kinks,
Bobby Byrd,
Massinfluence,
Monolake,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.