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 Spokane.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 X-Ray Spex to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Pylon. All the underground hits.
All the Germs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alison Limerick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Piero Umiliani,
Michelle Simonal,
Dave Gahan,
Jimmy McGriff,
a-ha,
The Leaves,
Ultravox,
Bobby Womack,
Barry Ungar,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
D'Angelo,
The Divine Comedy,
The Toasters,
Duran Duran,
UT,
The Stooges,
Japan,
Brand Nubian,
The Red Krayola,
Lightning Bolt,
Radiohead,
Outsiders,
The Shadows of Knight,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Max Romeo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lee Hazlewood,
Toni Rubio,
Lindisfarne,
Shoche,
48th St. Collective,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Smoke,
Young Marble Giants,
Eric Copeland,
Albert Ayler,
Scientists,
Sällskapet,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Reagan Youth,
CMW,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Drive Like Jehu,
the Bar-Kays,
Alton Ellis,
Suicide,
John Holt,
The Blues Magoos,
Vladislav Delay,
Essential Logic,
Popol Vuh,
Peter and Kerry,
In Retrospect,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ituana,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Magazine,
Ronan,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.