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 Sweden and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
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 Captain Beefheart 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 Lucky Dragons to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Crispian St. Peters. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Selecter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Circle Jerks,
Sixth Finger,
David Bowie,
Bob Dylan,
Aural Exciters,
Letta Mbulu,
Janne Schatter,
The Fall,
Skriet,
Q and Not U,
Thee Headcoats,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Ice-T,
Johnny Osbourne,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Cybotron,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
FM Einheit,
The Pop Group,
Gang Gang Dance,
Das Ding,
Roy Ayers,
New York Dolls,
Accadde A,
Loose Ends,
Mission of Burma,
Minor Threat,
Pharoah Sanders,
David Axelrod,
Cal Tjader,
Matthew Halsall,
The Young Rascals,
Glambeats Corp.,
Donny Hathaway,
Clear Light,
Scratch Acid,
The Count Five,
Swans,
Ken Boothe,
The Dirtbombs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pole,
The Music Machine,
The Pretty Things,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pagans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Residents,
Faraquet,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Patti Smith,
Ossler,
Maurizio,
Lalann,
Tim Buckley,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fear,
Wally Richardson,
Procol Harum,
Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre, Harpers Bizarre.
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.