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 Iran and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Halifax.
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 sitar 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 Roxy Music to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cramps record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Saccharine Trust,
The Evens,
Los Fastidios,
Lightning Bolt,
Wire,
T.S.O.L.,
Dual Sessions,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barrington Levy,
The New Christs,
Negative Approach,
Deepchord,
Thompson Twins,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bobby Womack,
Crooked Eye,
Young Marble Giants,
The Durutti Column,
The Martian,
Mary Jane Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Grass Roots,
Siglo XX,
Fatback Band,
Swell Maps,
Cymande,
Lyres,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Don Cherry,
Erykah Badu,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rufus Thomas,
Maurizio,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Blancmange,
Minor Threat,
Buzzcocks,
Absolute Body Control,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Boredoms,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nils Olav,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Cameo,
Porter Ricks,
The Wake,
Barclay James Harvest,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kas Product,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Offenders,
Unrelated Segments,
Dennis Brown,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.