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 Saudi Arabia and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 U.S. Maple to the grunge 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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can 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 guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Livin' Joy,
The Walker Brothers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Moleskins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Al Stewart,
Brass Construction,
Lalann,
Surgeon,
Warsaw,
Deepchord,
Malaria!,
Tubeway Army,
Idris Muhammad,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Searchers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Babytalk,
Suburban Knight,
Icehouse,
The Standells,
Joensuu 1685,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Y Pants,
Soul II Soul,
Tim Buckley,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Soulsonic Force,
Sugar Minott,
Hoover,
The Angels of Light,
Morten Harket,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Patti Smith,
Bluetip,
Q and Not U,
X-101,
Steve Hackett,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
the Sonics,
The Star Department,
Gang Gang Dance,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eli Mardock,
The Leaves,
Country Teasers,
Alison Limerick,
Alton Ellis,
Howard Jones,
Ultra Naté,
R.M.O.,
T. Rex,
Marc Almond,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Brick,
The Barracudas,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bob Dylan,
Hasil Adkins,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.