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 Bolivia and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 A Certain Ratio to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Danielle Patucci. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
The Real Kids,
The Skatalites,
Q and Not U,
Make Up,
Cheater Slicks,
Deakin,
Delon & Dalcan,
June of 44,
Brothers Johnson,
Soul Sonic Force,
Lucky Dragons,
Davy DMX,
Masters at Work,
Scan 7,
L. Decosne,
Dark Day,
Slick Rick,
Skaos,
Das Ding,
Lakeside,
Matthew Bourne,
Gichy Dan,
Young Marble Giants,
Fat Boys,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Angry Samoans,
Interpol,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lungfish,
The Dirtbombs,
Blancmange,
World's Most,
The Barracudas,
Livin' Joy,
Barbara Tucker,
Sonic Youth,
Roy Ayers,
Mad Mike,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Man Parrish,
Moebius,
Arab on Radar,
Cal Tjader,
Cymande,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Motions,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Stooges,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yusef Lateef,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Womack,
Avey Tare,
Mars,
Black Bananas,
Gong,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.