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 Poland and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Minnie Riperton to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Ken Boothe. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Rhythm & Sound,
Morten Harket,
Basic Channel,
Cybotron,
Alton Ellis,
Groovy Waters,
The Kinks,
Avey Tare,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Max Romeo,
Kenny Larkin,
Scrapy,
PIL,
Oblivians,
Bob Dylan,
Deadbeat,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chris Corsano,
The Last Poets,
10cc,
Outsiders,
One Last Wish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Scratch Acid,
Joyce Sims,
Liliput,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Franke,
Simply Red,
Guru Guru,
Pere Ubu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Josef K,
Absolute Body Control,
The Leaves,
The Pop Group,
Suicide,
Eddi Front,
Boz Scaggs,
The Fortunes,
James White and The Blacks,
Kurtis Blow,
Gang of Four,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Birthday Party,
The Smoke,
Eli Mardock,
Carl Craig,
Parry Music,
Michelle Simonal,
the Soft Cell,
Fad Gadget,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radiohead,
Robert Görl,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye, Crooked Eye.
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.