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 Haiti and from Copenhagen.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the guitar 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 Gichy Dan to the techno 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 Yazoo. All the underground hits.
All The Birthday Party tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Iggy Pop record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Stetsasonic,
Brick,
the Human League,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kenny Larkin,
The Move,
The Barracudas,
Barbara Tucker,
Fatback Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Sister Nancy,
Sugar Minott,
Motorama,
Severed Heads,
Nation of Ulysses,
Khruangbin,
The Real Kids,
David Axelrod,
Lightning Bolt,
David McCallum,
Black Pus,
Tres Demented,
Cheater Slicks,
Lakeside,
Sun City Girls,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Jacob Miller,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Roxette,
Arab on Radar,
B.T. Express,
Second Layer,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rosa Yemen,
Brothers Johnson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerrie Biddell,
Todd Rundgren,
Qualms,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Heaven 17,
Talk Talk,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ponytail,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Gories,
Panda Bear,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gong,
Index,
June of 44,
Masters at Work,
Country Teasers,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wings,
Brand Nubian,
Traffic Nightmare,
Stereo Dub,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.