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 Brazil and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 oboe 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Wally Richardson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Kinks 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Intrusion record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
One Last Wish,
Spandau Ballet,
Flamin' Groovies,
Sam Rivers,
Brick,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Scratch Acid,
Ultravox,
the Soft Cell,
Pylon,
The Five Americans,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Blake Baxter,
The Slits,
Eve St. Jones,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Echospace,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Cal Tjader,
Unrelated Segments,
Delta 5,
Mary Jane Girls,
Clear Light,
X-Ray Spex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Wake,
Maurizio,
Crooked Eye,
The Walker Brothers,
Massinfluence,
The Trojans,
Eli Mardock,
Marine Girls,
Eden Ahbez,
Vladislav Delay,
Ultra Naté,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Mojo Men,
Boredoms,
Bill Wells,
Freddie Wadling,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Selecter,
Anthony Braxton,
Todd Terry,
Babytalk,
Roger Hodgson,
Donald Byrd,
F. McDonald,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Idris Muhammad,
Henry Cow,
Ronnie Foster,
Thee Headcoats,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas, Grey Daturas.
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.