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 Suriname and from Beijing.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Faraquet to the rock 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 Ossler. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tropical Tobacco record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jandek,
The Slits,
The Slackers,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mantronix,
Nick Fraelich,
Michelle Simonal,
Leonard Cohen,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Görl,
Marc Almond,
Technova,
Arcadia,
Charles Mingus,
X-101,
Jacques Brel,
The Moody Blues,
The Misunderstood,
Interpol,
Isaac Hayes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Von Mondo,
Thompson Twins,
Ken Boothe,
Joe Smooth,
LL Cool J,
Heaven 17,
Aloha Tigers,
Chris & Cosey,
Prince Buster,
Wolf Eyes,
Kevin Saunderson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Royal Trux,
Man Parrish,
Essential Logic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Crime,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Minny Pops,
Boogie Down Productions,
Boz Scaggs,
John Holt,
The Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
Vladislav Delay,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
Tropical Tobacco,
Brass Construction,
The Remains,
Japan,
Pere Ubu,
Glenn Branca,
Accadde A,
Iggy Pop,
Swell Maps,
Pussy Galore,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Lower 48,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Modern Lovers,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.