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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 marimba 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 Rufus Thomas to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Metal Thangz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Susan Cadogan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Monolake,
Bad Manners,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Electric Prunes,
Kerrie Biddell,
Faust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Five Americans,
Soft Machine,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
Nils Olav,
Outsiders,
Deadbeat,
Eric Copeland,
Howard Jones,
Stetsasonic,
48th St. Collective,
The Index,
Radiohead,
Sugar Minott,
Index,
Man Parrish,
Reuben Wilson,
Loose Ends,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Stooges,
Cameo,
Monks,
Pussy Galore,
Khruangbin,
Spandau Ballet,
The Red Krayola,
The Monks,
Piero Umiliani,
Radiopuhelimet,
Barbara Tucker,
Infiniti,
Eli Mardock,
The Toasters,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Delon & Dalcan,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Cybotron,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grauzone,
Dawn Penn,
The Happenings,
The Evens,
Pere Ubu,
Sarah Menescal,
The Busters,
Glenn Branca,
The Doobie Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Siglo XX,
Danielle Patucci,
Adolescents,
Essential Logic,
Technova,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.