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 Indonesia and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Skriet to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Swans,
Gabor Szabo,
The Fortunes,
The Velvet Underground,
Flamin' Groovies,
John Coltrane,
ABC,
Fear,
The Cowsills,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Chrome,
Pierre Henry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sugar Minott,
Main Source,
Blancmange,
Boz Scaggs,
James Chance & The Contortions,
June of 44,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
World's Most,
The Evens,
The Knickerbockers,
Iggy Pop,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pharoah Sanders,
B.T. Express,
Godley & Creme,
Pantaleimon,
Drexciya,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Residents,
Brick,
The Fuzztones,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lindisfarne,
Saccharine Trust,
Magma,
Todd Rundgren,
Wings,
The Seeds,
Darondo,
Deadbeat,
Alton Ellis,
The Gories,
Lungfish,
David McCallum,
Girls At Our Best!,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Smooth,
Max Romeo,
Young Marble Giants,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
ABBA,
H. Thieme,
The Dead C,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rakim,
Suicide, Suicide, Suicide, Suicide.
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.