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 Tuvalu and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jeff Lynne to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Country Joe & The Fish. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a K-Klass record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Whodini,
Sexual Harrassment,
Easy Going,
Wolf Eyes,
Gang of Four,
Donald Byrd,
Desert Stars,
Magma,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Faraquet,
The Slits,
Ohio Players,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Theoretical Girls,
Popol Vuh,
Joe Finger,
Bush Tetras,
Camberwell Now,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Terry Callier,
Intrusion,
Judy Mowatt,
Infiniti,
Hoover,
Goldenarms,
Hot Snakes,
Banda Bassotti,
The Skatalites,
Fear,
Fugazi,
Rosa Yemen,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Wasted Youth,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bill Near,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Todd Terry,
Throbbing Gristle,
The United States of America,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Black Pus,
Organ,
Danielle Patucci,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cameo,
Thee Headcoats,
Nik Kershaw,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ralphi Rosario,
Swans,
ABBA,
Roxette,
Cheater Slicks,
Roxy Music,
Second Layer,
Fluxion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Carl Craig,
Man Eating Sloth,
Slave,
James White and The Blacks,
The Index, The Index, The Index, The Index.
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.