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 United States and from London.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 güiro 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 The Chocolate Watch Band to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Boogie Down Productions. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeff Lynne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Dual Sessions,
The Beau Brummels,
Stereo Dub,
Con Funk Shun,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agitation Free,
Arcadia,
Faraquet,
Amon Düül,
the Germs,
The Pretty Things,
Marmalade,
Mad Mike,
Danielle Patucci,
Reuben Wilson,
Pere Ubu,
The Associates,
Tomorrow,
The Star Department,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Cowsills,
Audionom,
Cybotron,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Electric Prunes,
Outsiders,
Funky Four + One,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The New Christs,
Dark Day,
Ornette Coleman,
The American Breed,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Detroit Cobras,
Donald Byrd,
Swell Maps,
Lakeside,
Sällskapet,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Soulsonic Force,
Pulsallama,
David McCallum,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Lydon,
48th St. Collective,
Glambeats Corp.,
F. McDonald,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Jawbox,
Nik Kershaw,
Soul II Soul,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rod Modell,
Ludus,
Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses, Nation of Ulysses.
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.