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 Sudan and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Spokane.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the oboe 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 Absolute Body Control to the rap 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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Ultimate Spinach,
Letta Mbulu,
The Mummies,
Wolf Eyes,
Mad Mike,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Malaria!,
AZ,
Sandy B,
Suicide,
Mandrill,
Alison Limerick,
Pere Ubu,
Fifty Foot Hose,
London Community Gospel Choir,
LL Cool J,
Severed Heads,
Brick,
Gang Green,
Von Mondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mo-Dettes,
FM Einheit,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crooked Eye,
The Birthday Party,
Stereo Dub,
Pantytec,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bush Tetras,
Newcleus,
Cybotron,
Main Source,
The Monks,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
David Axelrod,
The J.B.'s,
Jesper Dahlback,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Oneida,
MC5,
Rapeman,
Rosa Yemen,
Visage,
The Stooges,
The Dirtbombs,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Talk Talk,
Anthony Braxton,
the Slits,
Deepchord,
Nas,
Joyce Sims,
Ponytail,
Al Stewart,
Sällskapet,
The Beau Brummels,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.