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 France and from Milan.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 X-Ray Spex to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Cameo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grandmaster Flash 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Beau Brummels record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
Ponytail,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Banda Bassotti,
Erykah Badu,
World's Most,
Malaria!,
The Smoke,
Sam Rivers,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Scrapy,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
the Association,
Jeff Lynne,
The Cowsills,
L. Decosne,
The Moleskins,
Al Stewart,
Bob Dylan,
The Real Kids,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
The Gladiators,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu,
Deepchord,
U.S. Maple,
Black Moon,
Delta 5,
Jawbox,
Stetsasonic,
Joy Division,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Qualms,
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Fluxion,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Pylon,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Gang of Four,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ultra Naté,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sällskapet,
The Buckinghams,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Michelle Simonal,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
Interpol,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Siglo XX,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Five Americans,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
Jerry's Kids,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.