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 Honduras and from Edmonton.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 arpeggiator 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 Ken Boothe to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Massinfluence record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Shoche,
Bob Dylan,
Scratch Acid,
Sound Behaviour,
Half Japanese,
Jacques Brel,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
Erykah Badu,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Mojo Men,
Mary Jane Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Trumans Water,
Amazonics,
the Germs,
The Smiths,
Soft Cell,
Ken Boothe,
Bauhaus,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sixth Finger,
T. Rex,
The Smoke,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Saccharine Trust,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Radio Birdman,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barrington Levy,
Sun City Girls,
Donny Hathaway,
Ituana,
H. Thieme,
DJ Sneak,
Mandrill,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
World's Most,
10cc,
R.M.O.,
Peter & Gordon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
Agitation Free,
Iggy Pop,
Little Man,
Robert Görl,
A Flock of Seagulls,
June Days,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Blackbyrds,
The Residents,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Idris Muhammad,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crooked Eye,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.