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 Malawi and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 rhodes 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 Pierre Henry to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Au Pairs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Outsiders,
The Star Department,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerri Chandler,
Nirvana,
Minutemen,
Althea and Donna,
Dawn Penn,
Barry Ungar,
Lou Christie,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Moss Icon,
Anakelly,
Banda Bassotti,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiopuhelimet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Piero Umiliani,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
H. Thieme,
Lindisfarne,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Modern Lovers,
The Fugs,
David Axelrod,
Half Japanese,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Lynne,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-102,
Tubeway Army,
Sight & Sound,
kango's stein massive,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Eurythmics,
Severed Heads,
Brick,
Bush Tetras,
Mr. Review,
Pylon,
The Grass Roots,
Lungfish,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Monks,
The Doors,
The Velvet Underground,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sällskapet,
Dennis Brown,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pet Shop Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Joensuu 1685,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Cramps,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jacob Miller,
the Sonics,
Derrick Morgan,
Grandmaster Flash,
Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia, Arcadia.
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.