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 Romania and from Salvador.
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 1968 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Oblivians to the grunge 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anakelly record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scan 7,
John Coltrane,
Masters at Work,
The Beau Brummels,
Blancmange,
Neil Young,
The Blackbyrds,
Faraquet,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Carl Craig,
Joyce Sims,
Black Bananas,
Rites of Spring,
Minor Threat,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Selecter,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Iggy Pop,
Surgeon,
David McCallum,
The Associates,
The J.B.'s,
The Dead C,
Echospace,
Basic Channel,
Bill Wells,
The Move,
Glenn Branca,
Bauhaus,
Y Pants,
Gang of Four,
Mantronix,
X-101,
Con Funk Shun,
T. Rex,
Lightning Bolt,
Tres Demented,
Subhumans,
Bootsy Collins,
The Gun Club,
Deadbeat,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Saccharine Trust,
Dave Gahan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Hoover,
The Durutti Column,
Eric Dolphy,
The Neon Judgement,
Connie Case,
The Dave Clark Five,
Charles Mingus,
Ossler,
New Order,
Rotary Connection,
Radiohead,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
This Heat,
Zero Boys,
Kaleidoscope,
the Germs,
Pierre Henry,
Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance, Gang Gang Dance.
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.