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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar 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 Throbbing Gristle to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Kurtis Blow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nation of Ulysses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Names,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobby Womack,
Derrick Morgan,
Bang On A Can,
the Germs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Soft Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grey Daturas,
Suicide,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Busters,
Camouflage,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Howard Jones,
Scratch Acid,
The Move,
Make Up,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jimmy McGriff,
10cc,
Ponytail,
Yellowson,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Pagans,
Sun City Girls,
John Lydon,
Alison Limerick,
Neu!,
Arab on Radar,
Amazonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Organ,
Byron Stingily,
JFA,
Tommy Roe,
Fela Kuti,
Toni Rubio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
LL Cool J,
Cybotron,
Soul Sonic Force,
Tomorrow,
The Saints,
Liliput,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Trumans Water,
Fear,
OOIOO,
Sound Behaviour,
Swans,
June Days,
Scott Walker,
The Vogues,
Dark Day,
Nick Fraelich,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sugar Minott,
James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks, James White and The Blacks.
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.