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 Turkmenistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Absolute Body Control to the funk 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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Funkadelic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
The Walker Brothers,
Supertramp,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Nas,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Colin Newman,
Connie Case,
Make Up,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Guru Guru,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Al Stewart,
Yaz,
Faust,
In Retrospect,
Mr. Review,
ABC,
AZ,
OOIOO,
X-101,
Deadbeat,
Khruangbin,
Sparks,
Don Cherry,
The Cure,
Scan 7,
Mandrill,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Technova,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Swans,
Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
Joe Smooth,
Minnie Riperton,
Metal Thangz,
Eden Ahbez,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Main Source,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Anakelly,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blackbyrds,
Barrington Levy,
James White and The Blacks,
Darondo,
Pierre Henry,
Agitation Free,
Pantaleimon,
Heaven 17,
Nirvana,
Funkadelic,
Max Romeo,
Morten Harket,
Minny Pops,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.