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 Lebanon and from Bologna.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 Archie Shepp to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Siouxsie and the Banshees. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s.
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 Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Kas Product,
Monks,
The Fortunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jawbox,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Offenders,
Shuggie Otis,
Delta 5,
The Angels of Light,
Dennis Brown,
Cymande,
The Red Krayola,
The Fugs,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Slackers,
The Mummies,
Liliput,
Stiv Bators,
Rapeman,
Maleditus Sound,
The Gladiators,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eddi Front,
U.S. Maple,
Mo-Dettes,
The Young Rascals,
EPMD,
Fugazi,
Donny Hathaway,
Popol Vuh,
Ludus,
The Durutti Column,
Steve Hackett,
Ituana,
Piero Umiliani,
Ultravox,
X-101,
Severed Heads,
The Gun Club,
Leonard Cohen,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gabor Szabo,
Shoche,
F. McDonald,
Crash Course in Science,
The Mojo Men,
Ultimate Spinach,
JFA,
Heaven 17,
Theoretical Girls,
Bill Wells,
Grandmaster Flash,
Au Pairs,
a-ha,
Letta Mbulu,
Brothers Johnson,
Bronski Beat,
Pantytec,
Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division, Joy Division.
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.