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 Afghanistan and from London.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 Arthur Verocai to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Radio Birdman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
the Soft Cell,
Sexual Harrassment,
Altered Images,
Sex Pistols,
Sandy B,
Scrapy,
Ludus,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Shadows of Knight,
Livin' Joy,
The Misunderstood,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Faraquet,
Jeru the Damaja,
Grandmaster Flash,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Raincoats,
Brass Construction,
L. Decosne,
Rites of Spring,
Angry Samoans,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Lou Reed,
Sparks,
Bill Wells,
Fela Kuti,
Sonic Youth,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter & Gordon,
Joy Division,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Flash Fearless,
The Divine Comedy,
Deakin,
The Black Dice,
Rosa Yemen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Josef K,
The Fall,
Joey Negro,
The Cowsills,
Warsaw,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Organ,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Germs,
Eden Ahbez,
Laurel Aitken,
Connie Case,
Model 500,
Unrelated Segments,
Lakeside,
Aswad,
Bill Near,
The Smiths,
Reagan Youth,
Bad Manners,
Junior Murvin,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.