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 Samoa 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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Bananas to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All Jandek 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 disco 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 an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dark Day,
The Grass Roots,
Lebanon Hanover,
Warren Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vladislav Delay,
Aswad,
Marine Girls,
Terry Callier,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tomorrow,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Tremeloes,
The Red Krayola,
Severed Heads,
Eurythmics,
The Blackbyrds,
The Happenings,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Skatalites,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Electric Light Orchestra,
F. McDonald,
Peter & Gordon,
Minutemen,
PIL,
Subhumans,
Magazine,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Wings,
Robert Wyatt,
Absolute Body Control,
Liliput,
Gang Gang Dance,
Unwound,
The American Breed,
The Residents,
Goldenarms,
The Searchers,
Donald Byrd,
Sonic Youth,
Tubeway Army,
Traffic Nightmare,
Ultra Naté,
Grandmaster Flash,
These Immortal Souls,
Excepter,
Lungfish,
Funky Four + One,
Shuggie Otis,
Flipper,
The Moleskins,
the Germs,
The Pop Group,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Magma,
Scion,
Dead Boys,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Talk Talk,
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.