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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 The Dave Clark Five to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Move. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Interpol,
Fugazi,
Prince Buster,
Severed Heads,
Harmonia,
Masters at Work,
The Electric Prunes,
Ituana,
Charles Mingus,
June Days,
Mary Jane Girls,
Warren Ellis,
Deepchord,
Shuggie Otis,
kango's stein massive,
John Holt,
L. Decosne,
Freddie Wadling,
Second Layer,
Avey Tare,
Easy Going,
Scrapy,
The Move,
Youth Brigade,
OOIOO,
the Human League,
Gil Scott Heron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Michelle Simonal,
The Real Kids,
John Cale,
Franke,
Kaleidoscope,
Brick,
Dennis Brown,
Index,
The Slits,
Banda Bassotti,
the Slits,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lyres,
Parry Music,
Black Flag,
CMW,
Swell Maps,
Cecil Taylor,
Tres Demented,
Chrome,
Young Marble Giants,
Fluxion,
Sonny Sharrock,
DJ Sneak,
Radiohead,
Isaac Hayes,
Surgeon,
The Gap Band,
AZ,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Donny Hathaway,
Can,
Magma, Magma, Magma, Magma.
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.