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 Ireland and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Glasgow.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the grunge 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 Brass Construction. All the underground hits.
All Agitation Free tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amazonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Fugazi,
Easy Going,
Essential Logic,
Black Sheep,
Robert Görl,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Count Five,
The Flesh Eaters,
Rufus Thomas,
The Walker Brothers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Yellowson,
In Retrospect,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roxy Music,
The Mojo Men,
Scan 7,
The Mummies,
Symarip,
Spandau Ballet,
The Fire Engines,
Rekid,
Desert Stars,
Wally Richardson,
Blossom Toes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Black Flag,
James White and The Blacks,
Wire,
ABC,
Moby Grape,
The Music Machine,
Sun Ra,
Leonard Cohen,
Parry Music,
The Angels of Light,
Harry Pussy,
Tom Boy,
Althea and Donna,
kango's stein massive,
Audionom,
Shuggie Otis,
The Young Rascals,
The Standells,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Clarke,
Malaria!,
Minny Pops,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantaleimon,
Don Cherry,
Man Eating Sloth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Hood,
Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey, Bobbi Humphrey.
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.