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 Macedonia and from Taipei.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Khruangbin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heavy D & The Boyz record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Flag record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Shoche,
The Blackbyrds,
Arcadia,
The Mojo Men,
Black Pus,
The Red Krayola,
The Last Poets,
The Martian,
Leonard Cohen,
Accadde A,
The Pretty Things,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Moss Icon,
Eric Copeland,
Bauhaus,
The Skatalites,
the Sonics,
Motorama,
Mars,
Main Source,
The Doors,
Severed Heads,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Flipper,
X-Ray Spex,
Rod Modell,
Bad Manners,
Saccharine Trust,
Make Up,
These Immortal Souls,
Bush Tetras,
David Bowie,
Ash Ra Tempel,
KRS-One,
Sun City Girls,
The Tremeloes,
Index,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Mission of Burma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Roy Ayers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Dawn Penn,
Flamin' Groovies,
Siglo XX,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
One Last Wish,
Fad Gadget,
Surgeon,
Black Sheep,
Bizarre Inc.,
Scientists,
Ultimate Spinach,
Sight & Sound,
The Names,
Das Ding,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Skaos,
U.S. Maple,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gladiators,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.