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 Costa Rica and from Winnipeg.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes 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 UT to the grime 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Duran Duran 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sexual Harrassment,
The Victims,
Monks,
Silicon Teens,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Barracudas,
DJ Style,
Quantec,
The Dead C,
Black Flag,
Oblivians,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Leaves,
The Star Department,
Graham Central Station,
Kurtis Blow,
The Buckinghams,
The Gun Club,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Dennis Brown,
Darondo,
The Walker Brothers,
Swell Maps,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Talk Talk,
T. Rex,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Cure,
Maleditus Sound,
Skaos,
Lou Reed,
The Trojans,
Animal Collective,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Metal Thangz,
The Shadows of Knight,
H. Thieme,
Magazine,
Blancmange,
The Martian,
Jimmy McGriff,
Jeff Lynne,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Symarip,
Royal Trux,
The Flesh Eaters,
Juan Atkins,
Iggy Pop,
Neil Young,
Althea and Donna,
Aswad,
Qualms,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Amazonics,
The Knickerbockers,
Lakeside,
the Bar-Kays,
Underground Resistance,
Young Marble Giants,
Charles Mingus,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.