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 Solomon Islands and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the sitar 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 Ornette Coleman to the jazz 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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yusef Lateef 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sun City Girls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Quadrant,
Public Enemy,
Swans,
Underground Resistance,
Television Personalities,
Black Pus,
Blossom Toes,
The Toasters,
Electric Prunes,
Newcleus,
Scan 7,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Saints,
Quantec,
The Remains,
Alphaville,
KRS-One,
Bauhaus,
Minny Pops,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Junior Murvin,
Cheater Slicks,
Lower 48,
Tubeway Army,
The Angels of Light,
Arab on Radar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
David McCallum,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pussy Galore,
The Fugs,
Hasil Adkins,
The Moleskins,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Leonard Cohen,
Neu!,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Roxy Music,
Absolute Body Control,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Marmalade,
Jawbox,
Nik Kershaw,
Sixth Finger,
Pantaleimon,
Unrelated Segments,
Siglo XX,
The Neon Judgement,
New York Dolls,
Tommy Roe,
Jeff Mills,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Velvet Underground,
Gichy Dan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Maleditus Sound,
Gabor Szabo,
Ten City,
Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat, Minor Threat.
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.