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 Denmark and from Lyon.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 organ 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 Fat Boys to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eric B and Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Graham Central Station,
Bob Dylan,
The Dirtbombs,
Connie Case,
Hoover,
Nick Fraelich,
cv313,
Grandmaster Flash,
Harmonia,
the Human League,
Minnie Riperton,
The Tremeloes,
Eli Mardock,
Procol Harum,
Lakeside,
This Heat,
Kevin Saunderson,
Saccharine Trust,
Howard Jones,
Avey Tare,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joe Smooth,
Cheater Slicks,
Andrew Hill,
Rakim,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Hot Snakes,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kaleidoscope,
Sarah Menescal,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Searchers,
Agent Orange,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Donald Byrd,
Delon & Dalcan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Marmalade,
Gang Starr,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Pretty Things,
Lou Christie,
Faraquet,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Metal Thangz,
Thee Headcoats,
Absolute Body Control,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soft Machine,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Pop Group,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jawbox,
The Durutti Column,
The Fall,
The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels, The Beau Brummels.
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.