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 Kyrgyzstan and from Houston.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ice-T to the disco 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All K-Klass tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cramps 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skaos,
Faraquet,
Suicide,
Kaleidoscope,
Ice-T,
Depeche Mode,
Banda Bassotti,
Sound Behaviour,
Wolf Eyes,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Blake Baxter,
Bluetip,
Fad Gadget,
Absolute Body Control,
Sällskapet,
a-ha,
Marine Girls,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Barracudas,
The Fortunes,
Mars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Remains,
John Coltrane,
Bootsy Collins,
Agent Orange,
One Last Wish,
Ohio Players,
Eve St. Jones,
Rod Modell,
Henry Cow,
Skarface,
The Shadows of Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
Roxy Music,
The Dead C,
Amazonics,
Swans,
Joe Finger,
Eric Copeland,
X-101,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Golliwogs,
Gang Starr,
Lindisfarne,
Index,
Prince Buster,
Erykah Badu,
Von Mondo,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
Newcleus,
Television,
Roger Hodgson,
Soft Machine,
The New Christs,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eurythmics,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.