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 Madagascar and from Stockholm.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Los Fastidios to the grime 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Beasts of Bourbon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Kinks,
The Saints,
Harmonia,
Wolf Eyes,
Faust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Junior Murvin,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
PIL,
Black Flag,
Fear,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Deadbeat,
The Gladiators,
Popol Vuh,
Saccharine Trust,
Amon Düül,
Camberwell Now,
New Age Steppers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Arcadia,
Mandrill,
Country Teasers,
MC5,
Boz Scaggs,
Cybotron,
Stereo Dub,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pylon,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lucky Dragons,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
The Star Department,
Gang Green,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minny Pops,
Severed Heads,
Boredoms,
Marcia Griffiths,
Girls At Our Best!,
Malaria!,
Juan Atkins,
The Black Dice,
Lyres,
Banda Bassotti,
Public Image Ltd.,
Wire,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Joe Finger,
The Cure,
Bob Dylan,
Carl Craig,
The Slits,
48th St. Collective,
Average White Band,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Agent Orange,
Public Enemy,
Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock, Sonny Sharrock.
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.