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 Liberia and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Warren Ellis 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 Country Teasers. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Bar-Kays 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
Flipper,
Crispy Ambulance,
Chrome,
The Offenders,
The Fire Engines,
Slick Rick,
the Bar-Kays,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Brick,
Brass Construction,
Kaleidoscope,
Sun City Girls,
Black Flag,
Judy Mowatt,
Drexciya,
Eyeless In Gaza,
U.S. Maple,
Massinfluence,
FM Einheit,
Supertramp,
Heaven 17,
Blake Baxter,
Isaac Hayes,
David McCallum,
Joy Division,
Amon Düül II,
Liliput,
Jandek,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Cramps,
Aaron Thompson,
Stiv Bators,
The Mummies,
Godley & Creme,
Qualms,
Scion,
The Flesh Eaters,
EPMD,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Green,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Rufus Thomas,
John Cale,
Jeru the Damaja,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Barbara Tucker,
H. Thieme,
Sällskapet,
Soulsonic Force,
X-102,
Kevin Saunderson,
Zapp,
Lightning Bolt,
Harry Pussy,
The Smoke,
Eden Ahbez,
Anthony Braxton,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.