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 United States and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 arpeggiator 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 The Motions to the punk 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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Eden Ahbez 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 crunk 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 a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Icehouse record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Suburban Knight,
FM Einheit,
James White and The Blacks,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Little Man,
Surgeon,
Rakim,
Stereo Dub,
Pylon,
Lalann,
Colin Newman,
Barrington Levy,
Index,
Henry Cow,
cv313,
Ten City,
Maurizio,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Görl,
Circle Jerks,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Christie,
Reagan Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dead C,
Soft Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Yazoo,
Bad Manners,
Yusef Lateef,
Black Moon,
Matthew Bourne,
Easy Going,
Talk Talk,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nick Fraelich,
A Certain Ratio,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Happenings,
Swans,
Sarah Menescal,
Ronnie Foster,
Skarface,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Eden Ahbez,
Saccharine Trust,
Hasil Adkins,
Skriet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Malaria!,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kayak,
Guru Guru,
JFA,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Residents,
T.S.O.L.,
L. Decosne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.