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 Kazakhstan and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Al Stewart to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Amazonics,
Bootsy Collins,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
One Last Wish,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Slackers,
Motorama,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Dave Clark Five,
Absolute Body Control,
Bill Wells,
Soulsonic Force,
The J.B.'s,
Rites of Spring,
Janne Schatter,
cv313,
Sandy B,
Essential Logic,
The Count Five,
Babytalk,
Kerri Chandler,
Animal Collective,
D'Angelo,
Sällskapet,
Fugazi,
June of 44,
Trumans Water,
Japan,
John Cale,
Rekid,
Oneida,
The Cure,
Ultravox,
The Move,
Eurythmics,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mad Mike,
Lungfish,
Newcleus,
Alice Coltrane,
Darondo,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Sister Nancy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marvin Gaye,
The Sonics,
Crime,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Cluster,
Man Parrish,
Au Pairs,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
Index,
Blossom Toes,
Matthew Bourne,
Intrusion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.