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 Switzerland and from Cairo.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 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 Eli Mardock to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 A Flock of Seagulls. All the underground hits.
All Tom Boy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 güiro and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Velvet Underground record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
F. McDonald,
The Velvet Underground,
Sex Pistols,
Amon Düül II,
The Stooges,
Nick Fraelich,
Ronan,
Lungfish,
Isaac Hayes,
Big Daddy Kane,
Shuggie Otis,
Black Sheep,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Frankie Knuckles,
Roy Ayers,
Nas,
Clear Light,
Susan Cadogan,
The Dead C,
Gabor Szabo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nils Olav,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Heaven 17,
The Names,
Franke,
Harpers Bizarre,
Eddi Front,
Kaleidoscope,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Television Personalities,
The Happenings,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cameo,
The Misunderstood,
Avey Tare,
The Neon Judgement,
Thee Headcoats,
Prince Buster,
Harry Pussy,
Cecil Taylor,
Max Romeo,
Mantronix,
Erasure,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Monochrome Set,
Barry Ungar,
Khruangbin,
The Moody Blues,
Morten Harket,
Faraquet,
A Certain Ratio,
Au Pairs,
The Leaves,
The Blues Magoos,
AZ,
The Offenders,
Suicide,
Lyres,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.