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 Cuba and from Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the crunk 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 X-101. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultra Naté record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Porter Ricks,
PIL,
The Barracudas,
Roy Ayers,
Cameo,
Magma,
Kayak,
Slave,
Barbara Tucker,
Kurtis Blow,
The Evens,
Depeche Mode,
Minor Threat,
Connie Case,
X-102,
Ultravox,
The Fall,
Derrick Morgan,
Wire,
The Cowsills,
Goldenarms,
Make Up,
Organ,
Sonny Sharrock,
Severed Heads,
Eddi Front,
Ultra Naté,
Country Teasers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
MDC,
Eli Mardock,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Moody Blues,
Alphaville,
Tim Buckley,
The Buckinghams,
Jandek,
Josef K,
Zapp,
Neu!,
Sam Rivers,
Aaron Thompson,
ABC,
Dave Gahan,
Ossler,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bush Tetras,
Surgeon,
The Seeds,
Blossom Toes,
The Saints,
Quantec,
Whodini,
The Slackers,
Gang Green,
The Smoke,
Laurel Aitken,
The Blues Magoos,
Sarah Menescal,
Blake Baxter,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.