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 Nicaragua and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Men They Couldn't Hang to the funk 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 Joey Negro. All the underground hits.
All Notorious Big And Bone Thugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every FM Einheit record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Josef K,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bluetip,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
Dual Sessions,
Jacques Brel,
the Fania All-Stars,
Buzzcocks,
Johnny Clarke,
The Motions,
The Dave Clark Five,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Khruangbin,
Nick Fraelich,
Ornette Coleman,
Albert Ayler,
La Düsseldorf,
Nas,
The Saints,
Lalann,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Metal Thangz,
Depeche Mode,
The Associates,
Scott Walker,
Bad Manners,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Patti Smith,
Robert Wyatt,
Supertramp,
The Fire Engines,
Curtis Mayfield,
E-Dancer,
Easy Going,
Rapeman,
Black Moon,
Soulsonic Force,
the Bar-Kays,
Vainqueur,
the Sonics,
Ludus,
Gerry Rafferty,
Junior Murvin,
Electric Prunes,
Accadde A,
Ossler,
Cameo,
Grauzone,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camouflage,
Darondo,
the Germs,
Livin' Joy,
Erasure,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eurythmics,
Eve St. Jones,
Althea and Donna,
The Young Rascals,
Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya, Drexciya.
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.