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 Fiji and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 Letta Mbulu to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band. All the underground hits.
All Faust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rites of Spring,
New Order,
Kaleidoscope,
Mission of Burma,
Camberwell Now,
U.S. Maple,
Terry Callier,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Faraquet,
Lower 48,
Monks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Malaria!,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Talk Talk,
Skaos,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Janne Schatter,
Black Pus,
Archie Shepp,
This Heat,
Ossler,
Todd Rundgren,
Boz Scaggs,
LL Cool J,
Jerry Gold Smith,
One Last Wish,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Seeds,
Country Joe & The Fish,
UT,
Trumans Water,
Guru Guru,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deadbeat,
Juan Atkins,
The Slackers,
Ituana,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rekid,
Warsaw,
FM Einheit,
The Young Rascals,
Accadde A,
Severed Heads,
The Pop Group,
The Flesh Eaters,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Flash Fearless,
Marvin Gaye,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Zapp,
a-ha,
Q and Not U,
Angry Samoans,
The Last Poets,
Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling, Freddie Wadling.
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.