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 South Africa 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Slave to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 U.S. Maple. All the underground hits.
All Eurythmics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Funky Four + One 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Man Eating Sloth,
Guru Guru,
Make Up,
Barbara Tucker,
The Selecter,
Lalann,
Marine Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Surgeon,
the Normal,
Motorama,
Chrome,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Goldenarms,
Sex Pistols,
Gang Starr,
Negative Approach,
Black Pus,
Tres Demented,
The Monks,
Magma,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Shoche,
The Slackers,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Thee Headcoats,
Pulsallama,
Fatback Band,
Grey Daturas,
Depeche Mode,
Mr. Review,
Scott Walker,
Intrusion,
The Cowsills,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Circle Jerks,
Tomorrow,
Chris Corsano,
The Gap Band,
Loose Ends,
Nik Kershaw,
Black Bananas,
Accadde A,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Sonics,
The Golliwogs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Graham Central Station,
Grandmaster Flash,
Visage,
Groovy Waters,
Pantaleimon,
Basic Channel,
Scientists,
The Doobie Brothers,
Desert Stars,
Interpol,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eurythmics,
Roy Ayers,
Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians, Oblivians.
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.