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 Iran and from Glasgow.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Chocolate Watch Band to the dance 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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Half Japanese tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Au Pairs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eli Mardock,
Reagan Youth,
Q and Not U,
The Beau Brummels,
Marshall Jefferson,
Flamin' Groovies,
Brand Nubian,
Make Up,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ituana,
the Germs,
Youth Brigade,
Gang of Four,
The Mummies,
The Slackers,
Negative Approach,
Bill Wells,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Spandau Ballet,
The Monks,
Fugazi,
Arcadia,
Second Layer,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Human League,
Circle Jerks,
New Order,
E-Dancer,
Kurtis Blow,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Con Funk Shun,
Marc Almond,
Aswad,
Sixth Finger,
Hot Snakes,
The Litter,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Vogues,
Black Bananas,
The Seeds,
Television,
Oneida,
The J.B.'s,
The Remains,
James White and The Blacks,
Cal Tjader,
Cheater Slicks,
Simply Red,
Little Man,
The Sonics,
Spoonie Gee,
Faraquet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Offenders,
Sexual Harrassment,
Anakelly,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ossler, Ossler, Ossler, Ossler.
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.