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 Liberia and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Black Moon to the electroclash 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 The Move. All the underground hits.
All The Young Rascals tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Toasters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
the Sonics,
Eric Dolphy,
the Fania All-Stars,
Flash Fearless,
Nas,
Thompson Twins,
Pole,
Ten City,
The Litter,
Shoche,
Rotary Connection,
Lower 48,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Vogues,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Cale,
T. Rex,
a-ha,
Aaron Thompson,
the Normal,
Black Flag,
Television Personalities,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bush Tetras,
Monolake,
This Heat,
Todd Rundgren,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Byrd,
Charles Mingus,
Soul II Soul,
Moby Grape,
Bill Near,
Susan Cadogan,
Average White Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lou Reed,
Guru Guru,
Judy Mowatt,
Simply Red,
The Stooges,
Stiv Bators,
Sugar Minott,
Jacques Brel,
Black Bananas,
Jeff Lynne,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dave Clark Five,
Agent Orange,
Gang Starr,
Q65,
Mo-Dettes,
The Neon Judgement,
Cymande,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Real Kids,
Wolf Eyes,
Leonard Cohen,
Steve Hackett,
Porter Ricks,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.