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 Israel and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 John Foxx to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rufus Thomas. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rhythm & Sound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Von Mondo,
Oblivians,
Nirvana,
DJ Sneak,
Spoonie Gee,
JFA,
Grandmaster Flash,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Smog,
The Smiths,
Bush Tetras,
Oneida,
KRS-One,
the Sonics,
Duran Duran,
Pagans,
Gang of Four,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bluetip,
Boz Scaggs,
Swans,
Eric Copeland,
Brothers Johnson,
Byron Stingily,
Bobby Womack,
Prince Buster,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kenny Larkin,
E-Dancer,
Flipper,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Motions,
Q and Not U,
Nas,
Lou Christie,
Mad Mike,
Youth Brigade,
Inner City,
The Gladiators,
Ronan,
Severed Heads,
Echospace,
Skarface,
Masters at Work,
Pierre Henry,
Symarip,
Moby Grape,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sparks,
Liliput,
Ponytail,
Massinfluence,
Gerry Rafferty,
Anakelly,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Delta 5,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.