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 Djibouti and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 linndrum 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 Frankie Knuckles to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All Young Marble Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monolake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric Dolphy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scion,
The Stooges,
Das Ding,
Josef K,
The Blues Magoos,
Thompson Twins,
Barry Ungar,
Swell Maps,
Black Bananas,
Avey Tare,
Oblivians,
Matthew Bourne,
Q and Not U,
Aural Exciters,
Silicon Teens,
Tres Demented,
Rod Modell,
Ultra Naté,
Massinfluence,
OOIOO,
Carl Craig,
Los Fastidios,
John Foxx,
Eurythmics,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Gap Band,
DJ Sneak,
Faust,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
MC5,
Kool Moe Dee,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
MDC,
Ponytail,
Skriet,
Toni Rubio,
The Walker Brothers,
the Slits,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Brass Construction,
Kayak,
The Gladiators,
Faraquet,
ABC,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Sonics,
Sound Behaviour,
Gang Green,
June Days,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Index,
The Sound,
Pantaleimon,
The Misunderstood,
The Durutti Column,
The Gories,
Jerry's Kids,
Grey Daturas,
Ronan,
New Age Steppers,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.