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 Benin and from Winnipeg.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Joey Negro to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Holt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oneida,
Crash Course in Science,
Arab on Radar,
The Count Five,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Kaleidoscope,
The Leaves,
Flamin' Groovies,
Derrick Morgan,
Unrelated Segments,
Ossler,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Parry Music,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Trojans,
Cymande,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Patti Smith,
June of 44,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Smoke,
Tim Buckley,
Blancmange,
R.M.O.,
Zapp,
Freddie Wadling,
Andrew Hill,
The Gories,
The Gap Band,
Panda Bear,
Crime,
Eve St. Jones,
Colin Newman,
The United States of America,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Remains,
The Skatalites,
Adolescents,
The Happenings,
The Victims,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Radio Birdman,
Subhumans,
Marmalade,
Lalann,
Jeff Lynne,
Minutemen,
Joey Negro,
Kenny Larkin,
Pierre Henry,
Loose Ends,
Cybotron,
Theoretical Girls,
Lungfish,
The Human League,
Neu!,
Moby Grape,
The Wake,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Drive Like Jehu,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family, Angels of Light & Akron/Family.
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.