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 Indonesia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Neon Judgement to the techno 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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Martian record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unrelated Segments,
T.S.O.L.,
Qualms,
Duran Duran,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jerry's Kids,
Sexual Harrassment,
Half Japanese,
Flash Fearless,
Whodini,
Lower 48,
Dawn Penn,
The Last Poets,
Lakeside,
The Misunderstood,
K-Klass,
John Coltrane,
Leonard Cohen,
Mad Mike,
Clear Light,
Babytalk,
The Durutti Column,
Aural Exciters,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rosa Yemen,
Siglo XX,
Metal Thangz,
Harmonia,
Wings,
The Blues Magoos,
Ultravox,
Ohio Players,
the Bar-Kays,
Tim Buckley,
Yusef Lateef,
Dead Boys,
Michelle Simonal,
Au Pairs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Josef K,
Kerri Chandler,
Robert Görl,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Mo-Dettes,
The Standells,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aaron Thompson,
Minor Threat,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronan,
X-Ray Spex,
New Order,
The Litter,
Blancmange,
Japan,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Hoover,
EPMD,
Nas,
Rekid,
Cecil Taylor,
The Slits, The Slits, The Slits, The Slits.
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.