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 Azerbaijan and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 the Sonics to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Siglo XX. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes 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?
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
Reuben Wilson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Sun Ra,
The Fugs,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Television,
L. Decosne,
Sight & Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Moleskins,
Public Enemy,
One Last Wish,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Roxy Music,
Bobby Sherman,
Urselle,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Slits,
Alison Limerick,
The Selecter,
T. Rex,
Soft Cell,
These Immortal Souls,
David McCallum,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Fire Engines,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The New Christs,
Black Sheep,
Joey Negro,
The Slits,
The Cure,
Faraquet,
Japan,
Jacques Brel,
New Age Steppers,
Index,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Eric B and Rakim,
Grey Daturas,
Neu!,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Audionom,
Black Moon,
The Real Kids,
Fela Kuti,
Delon & Dalcan,
Archie Shepp,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Liliput,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blancmange,
The Skatalites,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Andrew Hill,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bob Dylan,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.