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 South Africa and from Bremen.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 June Days to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Red Krayola 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Sound,
The Remains,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bronski Beat,
Quantec,
The Gladiators,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camouflage,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cybotron,
The Angels of Light,
Aloha Tigers,
Angry Samoans,
June of 44,
Buzzcocks,
Siglo XX,
Joe Smooth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Sonic Youth,
Von Mondo,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Infiniti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Amon Düül,
Tres Demented,
Sister Nancy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Altered Images,
Monks,
The Skatalites,
Freddie Wadling,
These Immortal Souls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Funky Four + One,
New Order,
Spoonie Gee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hardrive,
Khruangbin,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Slits,
Fatback Band,
Henry Cow,
Donny Hathaway,
The Velvet Underground,
Country Teasers,
Maleditus Sound,
The United States of America,
Audionom,
The Residents,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cymande,
Prince Buster,
Andrew Hill,
Black Bananas,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Lydon,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.