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 Venezuela and from London.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Cairo.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Techniques to the rap 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 Johnny Osbourne. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Underground Resistance,
The Flesh Eaters,
Slave,
Neu!,
The Fire Engines,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Livin' Joy,
Pantaleimon,
Junior Murvin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lightning Bolt,
Archie Shepp,
Swell Maps,
World's Most,
The Litter,
Arcadia,
Amon Düül II,
the Normal,
PIL,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Khruangbin,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sandy B,
Ultimate Spinach,
B.T. Express,
The Index,
Anakelly,
Carl Craig,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Godley & Creme,
The Cure,
Bob Dylan,
The Residents,
June Days,
Absolute Body Control,
Half Japanese,
Rites of Spring,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Make Up,
Tres Demented,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Sister Nancy,
Ronnie Foster,
The Star Department,
Scion,
Silicon Teens,
Roxette,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Fugazi,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
John Holt,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues, The Moody Blues.
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.