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 Burundi and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Boz Scaggs to the rock 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 Bauhaus. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Alton Ellis,
The Neon Judgement,
Henry Cow,
The Mummies,
The Leaves,
Khruangbin,
Jawbox,
Toni Rubio,
Kool Moe Dee,
Cameo,
The Selecter,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Glenn Branca,
Todd Terry,
Bill Wells,
EPMD,
Cybotron,
Mission of Burma,
Crooked Eye,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxette,
Sister Nancy,
X-102,
James White and The Blacks,
Alphaville,
Outsiders,
Quantec,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Görl,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Dual Sessions,
Mad Mike,
The Kinks,
Little Man,
Roxy Music,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Soft Cell,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harry Pussy,
The Dirtbombs,
Qualms,
Deadbeat,
MDC,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Bootsy Collins,
Godley & Creme,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Donald Byrd,
The Dave Clark Five,
Urselle,
In Retrospect,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Slits,
Davy DMX,
Radiopuhelimet,
Boredoms,
Maleditus Sound,
The Busters,
The Names,
OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO, OOIOO.
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.