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 Mali and from Shanghai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Boz Scaggs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Supertramp record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
EPMD,
New York Dolls,
Soft Machine,
The Music Machine,
The Associates,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jeru the Damaja,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Can,
Robert Hood,
The Beau Brummels,
Ralphi Rosario,
Delon & Dalcan,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Talk Talk,
The Toasters,
Brick,
Joyce Sims,
Moby Grape,
Gang Gang Dance,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Vladislav Delay,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Last Poets,
Joe Finger,
Quantec,
Fad Gadget,
Metal Thangz,
Jacob Miller,
Loose Ends,
The Dave Clark Five,
Young Marble Giants,
10cc,
Procol Harum,
Dawn Penn,
Patti Smith,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Reagan Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Television,
Neil Young,
Brass Construction,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Unwound,
The Fortunes,
Y Pants,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Barrington Levy,
Bluetip,
Symarip,
Roxy Music,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Velvet Underground,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.