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 Barbados 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Heaven 17 to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Amon Düül II record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ 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?
Khruangbin,
Suburban Knight,
The Raincoats,
Jimmy McGriff,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Fire Engines,
Bush Tetras,
Fort Wilson Riot,
CMW,
The Offenders,
T.S.O.L.,
Negative Approach,
The Pretty Things,
Roxy Music,
Bill Wells,
Anthony Braxton,
Faust,
Jacques Brel,
Eve St. Jones,
The Zeros,
The Sonics,
Delta 5,
Skaos,
Derrick Morgan,
Crispian St. Peters,
Soulsonic Force,
Y Pants,
Traffic Nightmare,
Amon Düül,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pantytec,
OOIOO,
Rufus Thomas,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tres Demented,
DJ Sneak,
Minutemen,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
Wings,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Fugs,
Fela Kuti,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Heaven 17,
L. Decosne,
Gong,
Todd Rundgren,
Henry Cow,
David Bowie,
Masters at Work,
The Evens,
Rites of Spring,
The Monks,
The J.B.'s,
8 Eyed Spy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
The Selecter,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.