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 Bahrain and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 rhodes 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 Jeru the Damaja to the techno 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 Lou Reed. All the underground hits.
All Popol Vuh tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
48th St. Collective,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Christie,
Jeff Mills,
The Gories,
Jacques Brel,
Camouflage,
Zapp,
Marc Almond,
Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Section 25,
Radio Birdman,
Excepter,
Prince Buster,
Pantaleimon,
Alison Limerick,
Los Fastidios,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Donny Hathaway,
Arcadia,
Smog,
Liliput,
Skaos,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Gun Club,
Basic Channel,
Rosa Yemen,
Marmalade,
Sällskapet,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Davy DMX,
Dark Day,
Fat Boys,
Buzzcocks,
the Fania All-Stars,
New York Dolls,
Wings,
Curtis Mayfield,
Thee Headcoats,
Rekid,
Mad Mike,
Sonic Youth,
Robert Hood,
Deepchord,
Lightning Bolt,
The Doobie Brothers,
Camberwell Now,
Dual Sessions,
The Mummies,
Dennis Brown,
Amon Düül II,
Cluster,
The Associates,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Sonics,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo, Kool G Rap & DJ Polo.
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.