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 Mozambique and from Glasgow.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Sheep to the electroclash 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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Popol Vuh 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Pylon,
Bill Near,
Pagans,
Hasil Adkins,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Yaz,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sällskapet,
The Remains,
Sun Ra,
David McCallum,
Glenn Branca,
Neu!,
In Retrospect,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Derrick May,
Chris Corsano,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Josef K,
Franke,
Tropical Tobacco,
DJ Sneak,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Grauzone,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Quantec,
The Kinks,
Silicon Teens,
Black Bananas,
The Associates,
Althea and Donna,
One Last Wish,
Monolake,
Scott Walker,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Patti Smith,
The Busters,
Gang Green,
Kayak,
Desert Stars,
The Moleskins,
Roxy Music,
Bluetip,
Icehouse,
Cameo,
Mary Jane Girls,
the Normal,
cv313,
Aloha Tigers,
Agitation Free,
Jerry's Kids,
Roy Ayers,
K-Klass,
The Music Machine,
Gichy Dan,
Ronnie Foster,
Henry Cow,
Pole,
The Fire Engines,
Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade, Marmalade.
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.