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 Papua New Guinea and from Milan.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Delhi.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Loose Ends to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Livin' Joy. All the underground hits.
All John Foxx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Scott Walker,
Gang of Four,
Mr. Review,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lucky Dragons,
Thee Headcoats,
Roxette,
Deakin,
X-Ray Spex,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Invisible,
cv313,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Charles Mingus,
The Moody Blues,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Electric Prunes,
Dawn Penn,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Godley & Creme,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Fluxion,
Neil Young,
Sugar Minott,
Reagan Youth,
L. Decosne,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ken Boothe,
Derrick Morgan,
Ultra Naté,
Eve St. Jones,
Joey Negro,
The United States of America,
Thompson Twins,
Lungfish,
Ultravox,
The Gories,
Danielle Patucci,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Guru Guru,
Infiniti,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Arab on Radar,
The Wake,
Joy Division,
Spoonie Gee,
Crash Course in Science,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Remains,
Saccharine Trust,
Amazonics,
The Mojo Men,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Mills,
the Sonics,
the Slits,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Altered Images,
Gabor Szabo,
Skriet,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.