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 Romania and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 Wolf Eyes to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Spandau Ballet. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke 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?
Gastr Del Sol,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Saints,
Duran Duran,
The Doors,
Jesper Dahlback,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Nas,
Joyce Sims,
Wally Richardson,
Jacques Brel,
the Slits,
Khruangbin,
Soft Machine,
Jerry's Kids,
Brass Construction,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Moby Grape,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
China Crisis,
LL Cool J,
The Smiths,
The Litter,
Quantec,
Matthew Halsall,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Talk Talk,
The Leaves,
Marmalade,
Model 500,
Fugazi,
James White and The Blacks,
AZ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jeru the Damaja,
Leonard Cohen,
X-102,
Gichy Dan,
Alice Coltrane,
Moebius,
Monolake,
Sam Rivers,
JFA,
UT,
Mark Hollis,
Heaven 17,
CMW,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
Deepchord,
X-Ray Spex,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Subhumans,
Make Up,
Danielle Patucci,
Carl Craig,
Glambeats Corp.,
Dark Day,
Gang Green,
The Buckinghams,
Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick, Slick Rick.
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.