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 Lebanon and from Mexico City.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Steve Hackett to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Slits. All the underground hits.
All Colin Newman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jimmy McGriff record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Porter Ricks,
Smog,
R.M.O.,
Skaos,
Mark Hollis,
Technova,
Idris Muhammad,
Arthur Verocai,
Lyres,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joey Negro,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Black Flag,
Marshall Jefferson,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Dead C,
Gang of Four,
UT,
Gregory Isaacs,
Negative Approach,
The Gladiators,
ABBA,
Mary Jane Girls,
Buzzcocks,
T. Rex,
The Motions,
Black Sheep,
Gabor Szabo,
Black Bananas,
Jacques Brel,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pulsallama,
Pantaleimon,
Alison Limerick,
Cameo,
Suburban Knight,
The Birthday Party,
Sparks,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Machine,
Amazonics,
the Sonics,
cv313,
Stockholm Monsters,
Duran Duran,
David Bowie,
The Gap Band,
Moss Icon,
Can,
The Fugs,
Essential Logic,
The Remains,
Jeru the Damaja,
DNA,
Soft Cell,
Interpol,
Faust,
MC5,
Second Layer,
Michelle Simonal,
Cal Tjader,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade, Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade.
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.