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 Estonia and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Cymande to the grunge 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All cv313 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Average White Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Goldenarms,
Hardrive,
Crash Course in Science,
Agent Orange,
Oblivians,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Fortunes,
Bronski Beat,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mo-Dettes,
Rosa Yemen,
Popol Vuh,
Marc Almond,
Black Pus,
H. Thieme,
Gang of Four,
Desert Stars,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Lakeside,
Fugazi,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sandy B,
Ituana,
The Seeds,
Jawbox,
Minutemen,
Saccharine Trust,
Flash Fearless,
The Stooges,
Letta Mbulu,
Stereo Dub,
The Gladiators,
The Kinks,
Sonic Youth,
Grandmaster Flash,
Electric Prunes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
the Association,
Pere Ubu,
Lower 48,
the Normal,
One Last Wish,
Ultra Naté,
Amon Düül,
Throbbing Gristle,
Half Japanese,
Infiniti,
These Immortal Souls,
Isaac Hayes,
The Doobie Brothers,
New York Dolls,
Deadbeat,
Eurythmics,
Dawn Penn,
Unrelated Segments,
Nas,
China Crisis,
Gil Scott Heron,
Television Personalities,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.