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 Moldova and from Johannesburg.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Man Parrish to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All Smog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Young Rascals,
Eddi Front,
Aswad,
Arcadia,
PIL,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Kayak,
Barbara Tucker,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
The Walker Brothers,
Tim Buckley,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Tropical Tobacco,
Juan Atkins,
Lungfish,
Rapeman,
Alton Ellis,
The Fall,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Searchers,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Techniques,
Radiopuhelimet,
Second Layer,
Minny Pops,
Glambeats Corp.,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bad Manners,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
Black Moon,
Eli Mardock,
Bill Wells,
The Gap Band,
Clear Light,
Bang On A Can,
The Dirtbombs,
Animal Collective,
Sam Rivers,
Faraquet,
Ludus,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Aural Exciters,
Ultra Naté,
Ice-T,
The Last Poets,
Ultimate Spinach,
Man Parrish,
Youth Brigade,
Funkadelic,
Monolake,
Nas,
T.S.O.L.,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.