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 United States and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 rhodes 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 Jerry's Kids to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Franke. All the underground hits.
All Blake Baxter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dead C record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Walker Brothers,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monks,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Teasers,
The Tremeloes,
Peter and Kerry,
World's Most,
Johnny Clarke,
The Count Five,
Scientists,
Bobby Womack,
Mad Mike,
Guru Guru,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amon Düül,
Cal Tjader,
The Birthday Party,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Jacob Miller,
The Real Kids,
The Neon Judgement,
Vladislav Delay,
The Barracudas,
Warsaw,
Q and Not U,
UT,
Rites of Spring,
Ossler,
Rhythm & Sound,
Tim Buckley,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Sonics,
Pole,
Cymande,
Stetsasonic,
Marine Girls,
Mandrill,
Easy Going,
Lou Reed,
The Black Dice,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Slackers,
Saccharine Trust,
The Doors,
Delon & Dalcan,
Excepter,
Bauhaus,
Severed Heads,
the Bar-Kays,
Ralphi Rosario,
R.M.O.,
Maleditus Sound,
Procol Harum,
Rapeman,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel, Ash Ra Tempel.
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.