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 Costa Rica and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Bob Dylan to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Can. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a MDC record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pet Shop Boys,
Wings,
The Knickerbockers,
Zapp,
Sight & Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
Maurizio,
Crime,
Flamin' Groovies,
Electric Prunes,
Schoolly D,
D'Angelo,
the Association,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moody Blues,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sonic Youth,
Talk Talk,
Gong,
FM Einheit,
Smog,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Human League,
Masters at Work,
June Days,
Ohio Players,
Skriet,
Roxy Music,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Public Enemy,
Alice Coltrane,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Das Ding,
Archie Shepp,
Leonard Cohen,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sällskapet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jerry's Kids,
The Dirtbombs,
The Stooges,
Mantronix,
Franke,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hasil Adkins,
New Order,
Aaron Thompson,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Lower 48,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Mummies,
MDC,
Make Up,
Fluxion,
The New Christs,
Albert Ayler,
Agitation Free,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Slits,
Dave Gahan,
Adolescents,
Eric Copeland,
Deakin, Deakin, Deakin, Deakin.
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.