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 Burkina and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Hoover to the techno 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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Porter Ricks,
Rufus Thomas,
The Red Krayola,
Rapeman,
John Lydon,
Cluster,
Jawbox,
Slick Rick,
Morten Harket,
the Soft Cell,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sarah Menescal,
Jandek,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Grandmaster Flash,
This Heat,
Intrusion,
Black Flag,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eve St. Jones,
the Germs,
Jacques Brel,
Public Image Ltd.,
Monolake,
X-101,
Moss Icon,
Marmalade,
Siglo XX,
The Velvet Underground,
Throbbing Gristle,
X-102,
James White and The Blacks,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Depeche Mode,
Blancmange,
Rakim,
AZ,
Kas Product,
Bill Near,
The Standells,
Lyres,
Warsaw,
The Leaves,
Los Fastidios,
The Remains,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ornette Coleman,
Kerrie Biddell,
Agent Orange,
Public Enemy,
The Slackers,
Interpol,
Whodini,
Michelle Simonal,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Camouflage,
Bobby Byrd,
Eric B and Rakim,
Minnie Riperton,
The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers, The Cosmic Jokers.
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.