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 Thailand and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Crispian St. Peters to the rock 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Barracudas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Kurtis Blow,
Bootsy Collins,
Idris Muhammad,
Rosa Yemen,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Fat Boys,
Magazine,
Al Stewart,
Mad Mike,
Little Man,
The Martian,
Skaos,
Hot Snakes,
Masters at Work,
Be Bop Deluxe,
X-Ray Spex,
Davy DMX,
X-102,
Arcadia,
The Fugs,
Gong,
Jandek,
Half Japanese,
John Cale,
New York Dolls,
Audionom,
Quantec,
Ituana,
Underground Resistance,
Subhumans,
Tubeway Army,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Marc Almond,
Soft Cell,
Danielle Patucci,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Pop Group,
Black Flag,
Mission of Burma,
Shoche,
Scrapy,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Man Parrish,
Eric Dolphy,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
FM Einheit,
Lalann,
Junior Murvin,
Ultravox,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Victims,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cheater Slicks,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.