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 Swaziland and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar 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 Jacques Brel to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Mighty Diamonds. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Curtis Mayfield 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tim Buckley record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mars,
The Dirtbombs,
Iggy Pop,
The Standells,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Rod Modell,
The Gories,
Chris Corsano,
Chris & Cosey,
Joy Division,
Swell Maps,
Moebius,
Suicide,
Tears for Fears,
Los Fastidios,
The Motions,
Rekid,
X-Ray Spex,
Ituana,
Bobby Womack,
Franke,
Pere Ubu,
Newcleus,
Yazoo,
The Wake,
Todd Rundgren,
Robert Görl,
David Bowie,
Slick Rick,
Kas Product,
Erasure,
Junior Murvin,
Marine Girls,
Dual Sessions,
Soul II Soul,
The Cure,
Animal Collective,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
10cc,
Tommy Roe,
Accadde A,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scion,
Avey Tare,
Eve St. Jones,
Matthew Halsall,
The Trojans,
Quantec,
The Mojo Men,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Prince Buster,
Lalann,
Absolute Body Control,
Donald Byrd,
Lebanon Hanover,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Grass Roots,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Vogues,
The Residents,
The Names,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.