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 Slovenia and from Paris.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Ultimate Spinach to the rap 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Eve St. Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Anakelly 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jesper Dahlbäck record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Tommy Roe,
ABC,
U.S. Maple,
Lalann,
The Fugs,
Fad Gadget,
Bobby Byrd,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultra Naté,
the Slits,
Colin Newman,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ultimate Spinach,
UT,
Toni Rubio,
Reagan Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Janne Schatter,
Aswad,
The Skatalites,
Guru Guru,
The Shadows of Knight,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sällskapet,
Nico,
Surgeon,
Nick Fraelich,
Royal Trux,
Barbara Tucker,
Slick Rick,
These Immortal Souls,
Sex Pistols,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Blake Baxter,
Vainqueur,
Alison Limerick,
Robert Görl,
The Red Krayola,
Sugar Minott,
Amazonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Tomorrow,
Severed Heads,
Television Personalities,
Terry Callier,
H. Thieme,
The Kinks,
The Victims,
Anthony Braxton,
Unwound,
The Smiths,
Quadrant,
Intrusion,
Rosa Yemen,
Bang On A Can,
Connie Case,
Quantec,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.