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 Ecuador and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Sao Paulo.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Nirvana to the electroclash 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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Duran Duran,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Von Mondo,
June of 44,
Grauzone,
F. McDonald,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Move,
Rotary Connection,
Sonic Youth,
Sun City Girls,
Rufus Thomas,
Liliput,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
Bobby Sherman,
Yaz,
The Pretty Things,
the Sonics,
Monks,
Franke,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bluetip,
Cluster,
Pagans,
Lee Hazlewood,
Harmonia,
James White and The Blacks,
Fatback Band,
The Last Poets,
Vladislav Delay,
Stockholm Monsters,
Juan Atkins,
T. Rex,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Surgeon,
Todd Terry,
Donald Byrd,
Silicon Teens,
Easy Going,
Jawbox,
Fugazi,
Kurtis Blow,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Offenders,
The Sound,
Moby Grape,
KRS-One,
Brass Construction,
Janne Schatter,
Jerry's Kids,
Colin Newman,
The Count Five,
Popol Vuh,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Babytalk,
Kevin Saunderson,
Roger Hodgson,
The Fugs,
Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag, Black Flag.
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.