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 Solomon Islands and from Calgary.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Shanghai.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk 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 Inner City. All the underground hits.
All Drive Like Jehu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Delta 5 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Leonard Cohen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Boz Scaggs,
Chrome,
Tomorrow,
Swans,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Young Rascals,
The Black Dice,
Reagan Youth,
X-Ray Spex,
The Walker Brothers,
Derrick Morgan,
Roxette,
Accadde A,
The Selecter,
Main Source,
Depeche Mode,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mo-Dettes,
Inner City,
E-Dancer,
China Crisis,
The Dirtbombs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Black Pus,
The Motions,
Technova,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Porter Ricks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Second Layer,
T. Rex,
Heaven 17,
Hoover,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Spoonie Gee,
The Cosmic Jokers,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Doobie Brothers,
David McCallum,
Toni Rubio,
the Bar-Kays,
Banda Bassotti,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Red Krayola,
Loose Ends,
The Blackbyrds,
The Busters,
The Smiths,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
The Pretty Things,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dead Boys,
Bang On A Can,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Throbbing Gristle,
Quadrant,
Jeff Mills,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.