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 Vietnam and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 DNA to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Aaron Thompson. All the underground hits.
All The United States of America tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arab on Radar,
Moby Grape,
Rakim,
The Monochrome Set,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Pop Group,
Lightning Bolt,
Scrapy,
Schoolly D,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wings,
Roxette,
Colin Newman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young,
ABBA,
Mantronix,
Boogie Down Productions,
Cluster,
Derrick May,
Steve Hackett,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Flesh Eaters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Selecter,
Joe Smooth,
Joe Finger,
Anthony Braxton,
The Tremeloes,
Patti Smith,
The Young Rascals,
Grey Daturas,
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey,
Marvin Gaye,
Y Pants,
The Pretty Things,
Dawn Penn,
Loose Ends,
Metal Thangz,
The Last Poets,
Youth Brigade,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Lindisfarne,
Pole,
Todd Rundgren,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Slits,
Pylon,
The Birthday Party,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Index,
Stereo Dub,
Crooked Eye,
Juan Atkins,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.