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 Cameroon and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Fad Gadget to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 R.M.O.. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ohio Players record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Basic Channel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Crispy Ambulance,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Ponytail,
Patti Smith,
Young Marble Giants,
Mars,
Flipper,
Parry Music,
Roxette,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Holt,
Electric Prunes,
Alice Coltrane,
Erykah Badu,
Jacob Miller,
Eric B and Rakim,
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Chris Corsano,
Dorothy Ashby,
Black Sheep,
Boogie Down Productions,
Man Eating Sloth,
Agent Orange,
Franke,
The Moleskins,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Fugs,
UT,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Barracudas,
Khruangbin,
Ronnie Foster,
Q65,
The Litter,
Lungfish,
Soul II Soul,
Lee Hazlewood,
AZ,
Y Pants,
Sister Nancy,
Infiniti,
The Busters,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
KRS-One,
Alison Limerick,
The Wake,
Barry Ungar,
Mad Mike,
The J.B.'s,
Darondo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magazine,
Kool Moe Dee,
John Cale,
Little Man,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.