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 Australia and from Glasgow.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
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 theremin 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 Altered Images to the techno 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 Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Sun City Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
U.S. Maple,
Dead Boys,
Gang Gang Dance,
DJ Style,
Yaz,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pop Group,
Public Image Ltd.,
8 Eyed Spy,
Scott Walker,
kango's stein massive,
Procol Harum,
Moebius,
Barrington Levy,
Sam Rivers,
The Leaves,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rosa Yemen,
the Association,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Five Americans,
John Holt,
Marc Almond,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Scion,
Nirvana,
Bobbi Humphrey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Vladislav Delay,
48th St. Collective,
Camouflage,
The Doors,
DNA,
Dave Gahan,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Womack,
Reuben Wilson,
Todd Terry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Underground Resistance,
Matthew Bourne,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Schoolly D,
The Buckinghams,
Babytalk,
The Happenings,
The Sound,
Roxy Music,
Pantaleimon,
Electric Prunes,
Desert Stars,
Lightning Bolt,
The Names,
Alice Coltrane,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kevin Saunderson,
These Immortal Souls,
Tubeway Army,
Laurel Aitken,
Bootsy Collins,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.