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 Malawi and from Bologna.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 David McCallum to the disco 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 Supertramp. All the underground hits.
All Joey Negro tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth 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?
Schoolly D,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
This Heat,
Slave,
Jeru the Damaja,
These Immortal Souls,
Arthur Verocai,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Joy Division,
The Remains,
Subhumans,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Depeche Mode,
Gang of Four,
The Beau Brummels,
Lou Christie,
Con Funk Shun,
Hashim,
Crispian St. Peters,
Duran Duran,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Buzzcocks,
Josef K,
Joey Negro,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Knickerbockers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Maurizio,
Swell Maps,
Tubeway Army,
Audionom,
The Pop Group,
Faraquet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Count Five,
Harpers Bizarre,
Deakin,
Country Teasers,
E-Dancer,
Excepter,
The Busters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Be Bop Deluxe,
the Fania All-Stars,
Anakelly,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Robert Hood,
Fatback Band,
In Retrospect,
John Holt,
The Mummies,
The Real Kids,
Man Eating Sloth,
a-ha,
the Sonics,
Spandau Ballet,
Peter and Kerry,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Cramps,
Donny Hathaway,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.