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 Kazakhstan and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 punk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Scratch Acid. All the underground hits.
All Technova tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Joe Smooth,
Black Flag,
John Holt,
PIL,
Clear Light,
Freddie Wadling,
Robert Hood,
The Busters,
Eric Copeland,
Barbara Tucker,
John Coltrane,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
DNA,
Kaleidoscope,
Average White Band,
Pierre Henry,
Nas,
Aloha Tigers,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Outsiders,
Rod Modell,
E-Dancer,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
Michelle Simonal,
Lungfish,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jeff Lynne,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wally Richardson,
Mary Jane Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Guru Guru,
The American Breed,
The Count Five,
The Standells,
Hardrive,
Graham Central Station,
The Real Kids,
James White and The Blacks,
Robert Wyatt,
DJ Sneak,
Mark Hollis,
Reuben Wilson,
Khruangbin,
Mr. Review,
Scan 7,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Davy DMX,
Sarah Menescal,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Robert Görl,
Deepchord,
Pantaleimon,
Desert Stars,
The Wake,
Pet Shop Boys,
OOIOO,
Kerri Chandler,
Brothers Johnson,
Lightning Bolt,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.