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 Cambodia and from Calgary.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 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 Goldenarms to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All L. Decosne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ten City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultimate Spinach,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Dead C,
The Blackbyrds,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wire,
Carl Craig,
The Buckinghams,
The Detroit Cobras,
Susan Cadogan,
Eve St. Jones,
Model 500,
Organ,
Fugazi,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Soft Machine,
The Skatalites,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Y Pants,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Barbara Tucker,
The Velvet Underground,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Audionom,
Average White Band,
Slick Rick,
Johnny Clarke,
Soul Sonic Force,
Q and Not U,
Ossler,
Interpol,
Cameo,
Lucky Dragons,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lyres,
Tom Boy,
Dead Boys,
Kenny Larkin,
The Moleskins,
T. Rex,
John Cale,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Albert Ayler,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Pagans,
Matthew Halsall,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
The J.B.'s,
David Axelrod,
Darondo,
Depeche Mode,
Loose Ends,
Scrapy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Five Americans,
Boredoms,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.