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 Ireland and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lou Reed 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 La Düsseldorf to the rock 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ronnie Foster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Tres Demented,
Howard Jones,
Spoonie Gee,
Excepter,
Charles Mingus,
Stereo Dub,
Tears for Fears,
The Offenders,
The Golliwogs,
The Star Department,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fire Engines,
Lungfish,
X-101,
Girls At Our Best!,
Throbbing Gristle,
This Heat,
Brothers Johnson,
Robert Görl,
CMW,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Cluster,
Patti Smith,
The Martian,
The Black Dice,
Alison Limerick,
The Busters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scrapy,
The Knickerbockers,
Tom Boy,
Grey Daturas,
The Angels of Light,
Eurythmics,
Qualms,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Hood,
Sun City Girls,
Ralphi Rosario,
Matthew Halsall,
8 Eyed Spy,
Easy Going,
Accadde A,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Terry Callier,
The Fugs,
Sound Behaviour,
Sex Pistols,
Second Layer,
Sexual Harrassment,
H. Thieme,
Harry Pussy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Bush Tetras,
Thee Headcoats,
Scientists,
Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul, Soul II Soul.
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.