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 Chile and from Milan.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 kango's stein massive to the jazz 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 The Skatalites. All the underground hits.
All EPMD tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Adolescents,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Interpol,
The Beau Brummels,
The Sound,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare,
Dark Day,
Archie Shepp,
The Young Rascals,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sällskapet,
Young Marble Giants,
New Age Steppers,
Amazonics,
Aaron Thompson,
Crime,
Pere Ubu,
Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
The Birthday Party,
Bobby Byrd,
Nick Fraelich,
Skarface,
Yusef Lateef,
Rod Modell,
The Mummies,
Anakelly,
Depeche Mode,
Hoover,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter and Kerry,
Lalo Schifrin,
Average White Band,
Agent Orange,
Al Stewart,
Soul II Soul,
Crispy Ambulance,
Motorama,
Marvin Gaye,
Wally Richardson,
The J.B.'s,
The Smiths,
Roxette,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Barry Ungar,
Swans,
Con Funk Shun,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
L. Decosne,
Smog,
Scratch Acid,
Lightning Bolt,
Bad Manners,
Second Layer,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Seeds,
Frankie Knuckles,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.