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 Bahamas and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 Young Rascals to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Names. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tim Buckley record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Neon Judgement,
Flash Fearless,
Scratch Acid,
Sam Rivers,
Blake Baxter,
These Immortal Souls,
Drexciya,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Althea and Donna,
Brick,
ABBA,
Rod Modell,
Black Bananas,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Royal Trux,
The Standells,
Wire,
Andrew Hill,
Amazonics,
Pierre Henry,
Mark Hollis,
Jacques Brel,
Model 500,
Ossler,
The Birthday Party,
Bootsy Collins,
DJ Sneak,
Severed Heads,
James White and The Blacks,
KRS-One,
Sister Nancy,
Josef K,
Brass Construction,
Hasil Adkins,
Excepter,
Oblivians,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Swell Maps,
Johnny Clarke,
Prince Buster,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cal Tjader,
Tubeway Army,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Red Krayola,
John Lydon,
This Heat,
Stereo Dub,
Michelle Simonal,
Maurizio,
Moebius,
The Modern Lovers,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Star Department,
PIL,
the Human League,
The Residents,
Bang On A Can,
The Sonics,
Fugazi,
Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red, Simply Red.
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.