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 Laos and from Mumbai.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 808 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 Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minutemen. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young & Crazy Horse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Smoke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fluxion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Q and Not U,
Thee Headcoats,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jandek,
Alison Limerick,
Harmonia,
Clear Light,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Delon & Dalcan,
Althea and Donna,
The Shadows of Knight,
Lucky Dragons,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cal Tjader,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Aswad,
Boredoms,
Mission of Burma,
Pylon,
Bob Dylan,
Nik Kershaw,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric Dolphy,
Angry Samoans,
The Dead C,
Underground Resistance,
Wasted Youth,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Malaria!,
The Mummies,
Nation of Ulysses,
Index,
Mantronix,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Byron Stingily,
Andrew Hill,
Ornette Coleman,
Ossler,
Cameo,
Alton Ellis,
Gichy Dan,
The Misunderstood,
The Names,
Roger Hodgson,
Glenn Branca,
The Beau Brummels,
The Walker Brothers,
Big Daddy Kane,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Intrusion,
Pagans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Faraquet,
Saccharine Trust,
Toni Rubio,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.