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 Denmark and from Beijing.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Seeds to the rock 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 Minny Pops. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ken Boothe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
the Fania All-Stars,
The American Breed,
Procol Harum,
Fela Kuti,
Moebius,
8 Eyed Spy,
Simply Red,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Letta Mbulu,
Rapeman,
Slick Rick,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Byron Stingily,
Cheater Slicks,
The Dead C,
Yaz,
Hasil Adkins,
Ultravox,
Suburban Knight,
Eden Ahbez,
Fugazi,
Amazonics,
Grey Daturas,
The Slits,
June Days,
Robert Hood,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Green,
The Names,
cv313,
Malaria!,
The Golliwogs,
The Saints,
Pylon,
Amon Düül,
Gichy Dan,
Faraquet,
The Busters,
the Bar-Kays,
Kerri Chandler,
Mission of Burma,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
The Red Krayola,
Leonard Cohen,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Sixth Finger,
Quando Quango,
Livin' Joy,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Colin Newman,
Cybotron,
Johnny Clarke,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Victims,
Brand Nubian,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon, Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon.
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.