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 Kosovo and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 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 Tomorrow 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 Gil Scott Heron. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spandau Ballet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
The Fortunes,
Depeche Mode,
The Walker Brothers,
Albert Ayler,
Harry Pussy,
Ronnie Foster,
Masters at Work,
Josef K,
The Index,
The Leaves,
Peter and Kerry,
Laurel Aitken,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Vogues,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
Khruangbin,
The Electric Prunes,
John Holt,
Dead Boys,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Victims,
Boredoms,
Marmalade,
Arthur Verocai,
Lee Hazlewood,
Skriet,
Sällskapet,
The Shadows of Knight,
Carl Craig,
Funkadelic,
Silicon Teens,
Mary Jane Girls,
Soul II Soul,
D'Angelo,
T. Rex,
8 Eyed Spy,
Junior Murvin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Ice-T,
Soft Cell,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Techniques,
The Buckinghams,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marshall Jefferson,
Duran Duran,
Y Pants,
Nils Olav,
Robert Görl,
Todd Rundgren,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Jeff Mills,
10cc,
Magma,
Reuben Wilson,
Essential Logic,
Wire,
The Fugs,
Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes, Larry & the Blue Notes.
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.