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 Saudi Arabia and from Johannesburg.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Tim Buckley to the grunge 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 Black Pus. All the underground hits.
All Underground Resistance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hashim 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pop Group record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minnie Riperton,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sun Ra,
Janne Schatter,
Audionom,
Goldenarms,
T.S.O.L.,
Lower 48,
Wire,
In Retrospect,
The Smoke,
Leonard Cohen,
Byron Stingily,
Sister Nancy,
Tim Buckley,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Country Teasers,
Sixth Finger,
Tommy Roe,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fatback Band,
The Seeds,
Josef K,
Marine Girls,
Sex Pistols,
Tres Demented,
Spoonie Gee,
Hot Snakes,
Ossler,
Bobby Womack,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tubeway Army,
Godley & Creme,
Faust,
The Tremeloes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Warren Ellis,
The Mojo Men,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sparks,
Nils Olav,
Moby Grape,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Frankie Knuckles,
Minutemen,
Cecil Taylor,
Jerry's Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skaos,
Black Sheep,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mad Mike,
Gang of Four,
Brass Construction,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Subhumans,
Smog,
Donny Hathaway,
Interpol,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.