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 Nepal and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Intrusion to the disco 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Green 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Durutti Column record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Marvin Gaye,
Sun Ra,
Nils Olav,
Motorama,
Brass Construction,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rites of Spring,
Harmonia,
The Fuzztones,
the Germs,
Judy Mowatt,
Procol Harum,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
The Golliwogs,
Circle Jerks,
Kayak,
the Human League,
cv313,
Johnny Clarke,
Spandau Ballet,
Sex Pistols,
Panda Bear,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lungfish,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grauzone,
Franke,
Harry Pussy,
La Düsseldorf,
Howard Jones,
Warsaw,
Model 500,
Josef K,
Agitation Free,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Alison Limerick,
John Coltrane,
Dennis Brown,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
James White and The Blacks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Black Dice,
the Soft Cell,
Ossler,
Interpol,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
June of 44,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mo-Dettes,
Icehouse,
Kevin Saunderson,
Patti Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
Silicon Teens,
Pylon,
The Mojo Men,
Juan Atkins,
Bill Wells,
Camberwell Now,
Gerry Rafferty,
AZ, AZ, AZ, AZ.
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.