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 Spain and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 spring reverb 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 The Cosmic Jokers to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nirvana record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Iggy Pop,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Josef K,
DJ Style,
Quando Quango,
The Young Rascals,
The Barracudas,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Beau Brummels,
Hashim,
Juan Atkins,
Isaac Hayes,
the Slits,
Slave,
Excepter,
Soft Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Brass Construction,
Alice Coltrane,
Essential Logic,
ABBA,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Harpers Bizarre,
Tim Buckley,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Johnny Osbourne,
Prince Buster,
CMW,
F. McDonald,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Glambeats Corp.,
Faraquet,
T. Rex,
Skarface,
H. Thieme,
Trumans Water,
Barclay James Harvest,
Laurel Aitken,
China Crisis,
Aloha Tigers,
In Retrospect,
The Remains,
Rapeman,
Marmalade,
the Sonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
Camouflage,
Deakin,
New Age Steppers,
Vainqueur,
Aaron Thompson,
The Dead C,
Lalann,
The Moody Blues,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
John Cale,
Tubeway Army,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.