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 Finland and from Shanghai.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
Colin Newman,
K-Klass,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Eve St. Jones,
Ten City,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Standells,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Cluster,
Mantronix,
Nirvana,
Robert Hood,
Neu!,
Connie Case,
Yaz,
Bill Near,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Matthew Halsall,
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eden Ahbez,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The American Breed,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Con Funk Shun,
Lou Reed,
Rhythm & Sound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Leonard Cohen,
Massinfluence,
Tubeway Army,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Happenings,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Brick,
Isaac Hayes,
Lower 48,
Juan Atkins,
The Martian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Harry Pussy,
Marc Almond,
The Smiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ken Boothe,
Wasted Youth,
Robert Wyatt,
Pere Ubu,
Newcleus,
Swans,
Gichy Dan,
Tears for Fears,
The Invisible,
Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock, Eli Mardock.
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.