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 Costa Rica 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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 E-Dancer to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Monolake. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kayak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
The Modern Lovers,
The Real Kids,
Matthew Bourne,
The United States of America,
Gang of Four,
KRS-One,
Brick,
Slave,
Delta 5,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Pop Group,
Flamin' Groovies,
Max Romeo,
Harmonia,
Eddi Front,
The Names,
John Holt,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Absolute Body Control,
New York Dolls,
Soft Cell,
Guru Guru,
Stereo Dub,
Interpol,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bronski Beat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Camberwell Now,
Surgeon,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Cure,
Leonard Cohen,
Barrington Levy,
cv313,
Ponytail,
The Black Dice,
Avey Tare,
Japan,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Gap Band,
Glenn Branca,
The Velvet Underground,
Public Image Ltd.,
Roxy Music,
Blossom Toes,
The Gladiators,
Idris Muhammad,
Hoover,
The Index,
Television Personalities,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cymande,
Kas Product,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
London Community Gospel Choir,
the Slits,
The American Breed,
Alison Limerick,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party, The Birthday Party.
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.