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 Fiji and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Faraquet to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Isaac Hayes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Urselle,
John Holt,
Sonny Sharrock,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Nik Kershaw,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gastr Del Sol,
Simply Red,
Warren Ellis,
Scrapy,
The Raincoats,
Jacques Brel,
Traffic Nightmare,
K-Klass,
Massinfluence,
Index,
The Knickerbockers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Sixth Finger,
PIL,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Tommy Roe,
Lightning Bolt,
T. Rex,
David Axelrod,
Fugazi,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Byron Stingily,
Intrusion,
Public Image Ltd.,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Electric Prunes,
Oneida,
Dorothy Ashby,
Cluster,
Connie Case,
Flash Fearless,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Main Source,
Max Romeo,
Reuben Wilson,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
The Gladiators,
Schoolly D,
Jerry's Kids,
Tim Buckley,
The Last Poets,
Slave,
Amazonics,
The Move,
Oblivians,
The Golliwogs,
The Cowsills,
Ohio Players,
Saccharine Trust,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.