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 East Timor and from New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Donny Hathaway record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
The Moody Blues,
Outsiders,
Guru Guru,
Juan Atkins,
Rekid,
Ronnie Foster,
Wolf Eyes,
Jimmy McGriff,
Brass Construction,
Byron Stingily,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Monochrome Set,
Amon Düül II,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Desert Stars,
Lee Hazlewood,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Pretty Things,
Michelle Simonal,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Robert Wyatt,
Tom Boy,
The Move,
Siglo XX,
James White and The Blacks,
Brand Nubian,
Au Pairs,
Susan Cadogan,
Public Image Ltd.,
Bobby Sherman,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Carl Craig,
Agent Orange,
Pagans,
The Gladiators,
H. Thieme,
Vladislav Delay,
Lindisfarne,
Monks,
Sonic Youth,
New Age Steppers,
Angry Samoans,
Wally Richardson,
Lower 48,
The Saints,
Ultravox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lou Christie,
Chris Corsano,
Stiv Bators,
Hashim,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bill Wells,
Minnie Riperton,
Pole,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.