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 Swaziland and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Maleditus Sound to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Kayak. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Steve Hackett,
Minny Pops,
Eden Ahbez,
The Black Dice,
The New Christs,
Bootsy Collins,
Camouflage,
Nils Olav,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Electric Prunes,
The Index,
Duran Duran,
The Invisible,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Patti Smith,
Derrick May,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Drexciya,
The Walker Brothers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Gladiators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Inner City,
These Immortal Souls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Urselle,
Joey Negro,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Byrd,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Piero Umiliani,
Anthony Braxton,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Mummies,
Bizarre Inc.,
Ice-T,
Sexual Harrassment,
Black Flag,
Von Mondo,
Easy Going,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Womack,
Goldenarms,
Skaos,
Joe Smooth,
Slick Rick,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
John Foxx,
Yazoo,
Y Pants,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Smiths,
Popol Vuh,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
F. McDonald,
Lebanon Hanover,
Aswad,
Fluxion,
The Angels of Light,
The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight, The Shadows of Knight.
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.