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 the UAE and from Salvador.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 chamberlin 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 Stockholm Monsters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Q and Not U. All the underground hits.
All Scientists tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Bar-Kays,
Connie Case,
Procol Harum,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Scan 7,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The United States of America,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Finger,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Last Poets,
The Count Five,
The Monks,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Durutti Column,
Bobby Byrd,
Godley & Creme,
The Angels of Light,
Icehouse,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Urselle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Fortunes,
Aural Exciters,
Au Pairs,
Severed Heads,
Lower 48,
the Germs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lucky Dragons,
Ultravox,
Intrusion,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
JFA,
Marcia Griffiths,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
John Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
Aswad,
The Sound,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Evens,
Electric Prunes,
Gang Gang Dance,
Brothers Johnson,
Harry Pussy,
Reuben Wilson,
AZ,
Grey Daturas,
The Barracudas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Excepter,
Young Marble Giants,
Rotary Connection,
Moss Icon,
Black Bananas,
The Mummies,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.