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 Congo 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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the grime kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lightning Bolt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Carl Craig,
Blake Baxter,
Ohio Players,
David Axelrod,
Suicide,
Joyce Sims,
Television Personalities,
Vladislav Delay,
Pharoah Sanders,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Simply Red,
Eve St. Jones,
Make Up,
Letta Mbulu,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Slave,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric B and Rakim,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Charles Mingus,
Lindisfarne,
Faust,
Max Romeo,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Machine,
the Normal,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Doors,
The Red Krayola,
Godley & Creme,
Drexciya,
Crispian St. Peters,
Altered Images,
Bad Manners,
The Birthday Party,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Can,
Barrington Levy,
Sun City Girls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Average White Band,
The Angels of Light,
The Stooges,
Neu!,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Harry Pussy,
Bluetip,
Glambeats Corp.,
Silicon Teens,
One Last Wish,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Spandau Ballet,
Barclay James Harvest,
Schoolly D,
Crooked Eye,
Franke,
Johnny Clarke,
Animal Collective,
The Pop Group,
James White and The Blacks,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.