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 Nepal and from Halifax.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the guitar 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 Half Japanese to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Porter Ricks. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Beau Brummels record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a JFA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
H. Thieme,
MDC,
Johnny Osbourne,
One Last Wish,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Moleskins,
Massinfluence,
World's Most,
John Coltrane,
Hardrive,
Make Up,
Scott Walker,
Hasil Adkins,
Ken Boothe,
New York Dolls,
The Velvet Underground,
Ultimate Spinach,
Public Image Ltd.,
Anakelly,
Tropical Tobacco,
Beasts of Bourbon,
X-102,
John Holt,
Brand Nubian,
Buzzcocks,
Drexciya,
Donald Byrd,
Graham Central Station,
Minnie Riperton,
Can,
Oblivians,
James White and The Blacks,
The Gap Band,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
JFA,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Doors,
Roxette,
Mantronix,
The Dirtbombs,
Subhumans,
The Slackers,
Ornette Coleman,
Ponytail,
Yusef Lateef,
The Smoke,
The Cure,
Nick Fraelich,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Raincoats,
Marc Almond,
Althea and Donna,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Evens,
Neil Young,
Eric Copeland,
Skarface,
Vainqueur,
Pantytec,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Country Teasers,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.