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 Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rapeman to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Eric B and Rakim. All the underground hits.
All Bluetip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Standells 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flipper record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bang On A Can,
Jeff Mills,
Subhumans,
Danielle Patucci,
John Coltrane,
KRS-One,
The Vogues,
Roy Ayers,
Zero Boys,
E-Dancer,
X-102,
Black Bananas,
Negative Approach,
Drexciya,
Mr. Review,
Theoretical Girls,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Sherman,
Moby Grape,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cure,
Ossler,
Marvin Gaye,
The Smoke,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Lyres,
Jawbox,
Q and Not U,
Pylon,
The Grass Roots,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Pretty Things,
Ralphi Rosario,
Deepchord,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Slave,
Television,
Roger Hodgson,
The Dead C,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Association,
U.S. Maple,
Ituana,
Boredoms,
The Monochrome Set,
Sex Pistols,
X-Ray Spex,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
James White and The Blacks,
Maurizio,
Ten City,
The Invisible,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Average White Band,
Los Fastidios,
Hot Snakes,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.