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 Latvia and from Hong Kong.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Quadrant 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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MC5 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Surgeon,
Frankie Knuckles,
Crime,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monolake,
Infiniti,
The United States of America,
Jimmy McGriff,
Terry Callier,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Golliwogs,
Joe Smooth,
Lucky Dragons,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Fania All-Stars,
the Sonics,
Mars,
The Busters,
James White and The Blacks,
New Age Steppers,
Hasil Adkins,
Chris Corsano,
Bootsy Collins,
cv313,
New Order,
Rekid,
Jacques Brel,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Techniques,
Jeff Mills,
Brass Construction,
Hot Snakes,
Peter & Gordon,
Deadbeat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wings,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Ultra Naté,
The Monochrome Set,
The Sonics,
Amazonics,
Grauzone,
Boredoms,
Tres Demented,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler,
Kaleidoscope,
Derrick Morgan,
Mission of Burma,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ornette Coleman,
Depeche Mode,
Maurizio,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Machine,
La Düsseldorf,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Wyatt,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Fall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
X-Ray Spex,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.