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 Bolivia and from Accra.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 AZ to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angels of Light & Akron/Family record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alton Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Groovy Waters,
The Gun Club,
The Searchers,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Doobie Brothers,
H. Thieme,
Cheater Slicks,
Hot Snakes,
Niagra,
Eve St. Jones,
Ornette Coleman,
the Association,
Rekid,
Drexciya,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Judy Mowatt,
Rakim,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sam Rivers,
The Monks,
Surgeon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Fall,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
The Happenings,
Vainqueur,
The Pop Group,
Alton Ellis,
Altered Images,
Peter and Kerry,
The Associates,
Skriet,
Model 500,
Circle Jerks,
Stetsasonic,
Dead Boys,
John Holt,
The Modern Lovers,
The Knickerbockers,
Talk Talk,
Audionom,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Reuben Wilson,
EPMD,
Carl Craig,
The Sound,
Lungfish,
Roxy Music,
Intrusion,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Byrd,
The Skatalites,
Gang Starr,
The Cure,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Henry Cow,
Malaria!,
Junior Murvin,
Alice Coltrane,
Mr. Review,
Camouflage,
Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet, Spandau Ballet.
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.