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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Manila.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Remains to the disco 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 The Royal Family And The Poor. All the underground hits.
All Glambeats Corp. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Das Ding record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tomorrow,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scrapy,
Cecil Taylor,
K-Klass,
Second Layer,
Sonic Youth,
Boredoms,
Blossom Toes,
L. Decosne,
Sun Ra,
Circle Jerks,
Skriet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wasted Youth,
Gang Gang Dance,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
The Smiths,
Absolute Body Control,
Mr. Review,
Cal Tjader,
John Holt,
The Last Poets,
Duran Duran,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Schoolly D,
Hashim,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lightning Bolt,
The Moody Blues,
The Toasters,
Scientists,
Wally Richardson,
Michelle Simonal,
Crispy Ambulance,
DJ Sneak,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
Unrelated Segments,
the Slits,
The Names,
Amon Düül,
Eden Ahbez,
Simply Red,
Grey Daturas,
Mantronix,
Lou Christie,
Girls At Our Best!,
Alton Ellis,
The Trojans,
The Happenings,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Martian,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Glenn Branca,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.