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 Korea South and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roger Hodgson to the crunk 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 Leaves. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Quando Quango,
Suicide,
The Five Americans,
Mandrill,
Sandy B,
Bobby Sherman,
Slave,
Patti Smith,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Gun Club,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
MDC,
Cheater Slicks,
The Barracudas,
the Normal,
Al Stewart,
Das Ding,
Lower 48,
June of 44,
Kas Product,
DJ Sneak,
The Vogues,
Judy Mowatt,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Neu!,
the Fania All-Stars,
David Bowie,
Roxy Music,
Fad Gadget,
Fatback Band,
The Stooges,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Kurtis Blow,
Ultra Naté,
Byron Stingily,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Minutemen,
Los Fastidios,
Ronan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
Fat Boys,
Morten Harket,
Niagra,
Circle Jerks,
Susan Cadogan,
World's Most,
Rhythm & Sound,
Barry Ungar,
Nation of Ulysses,
Khruangbin,
Tomorrow,
Stetsasonic,
Technova,
Godley & Creme,
Surgeon,
The Cowsills,
Pole,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.