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 Sudan and from Paris.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Vladislav Delay to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Organ. All the underground hits.
All Cal Tjader tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Golliwogs,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Con Funk Shun,
Mary Jane Girls,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Raincoats,
Joe Smooth,
cv313,
K-Klass,
Scientists,
Nils Olav,
Steve Hackett,
The Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
John Cale,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
LL Cool J,
Suburban Knight,
The Blues Magoos,
Susan Cadogan,
La Düsseldorf,
Hardrive,
Goldenarms,
Judy Mowatt,
Alphaville,
Erykah Badu,
Hoover,
The Names,
These Immortal Souls,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Move,
the Slits,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeff Mills,
Index,
The Slackers,
Joy Division,
Deepchord,
Marmalade,
Kerri Chandler,
The Remains,
Iggy Pop,
The Techniques,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Youth Brigade,
Surgeon,
Cecil Taylor,
Heaven 17,
Ultra Naté,
B.T. Express,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Rotary Connection,
Anakelly,
Agitation Free,
Lakeside,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Mojo Men,
Lalo Schifrin,
Von Mondo,
Sight & Sound,
Hashim, Hashim, Hashim, Hashim.
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.