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 Barbados and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 marimba 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 Bobby Sherman to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Von Mondo. All the underground hits.
All Liaisons Dangereuses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every AZ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Whodini record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
Bill Near,
Roger Hodgson,
The Birthday Party,
Connie Case,
One Last Wish,
Bush Tetras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Lou Reed,
Morten Harket,
Grey Daturas,
Eurythmics,
Stereo Dub,
Scrapy,
Hot Snakes,
Danielle Patucci,
The Saints,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Camouflage,
Curtis Mayfield,
Kenny Larkin,
Kaleidoscope,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Vainqueur,
Yazoo,
Black Flag,
MDC,
Skaos,
James Chance & The Contortions,
D'Angelo,
Faraquet,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Unrelated Segments,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
the Swans,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Slits,
The Buckinghams,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Wasted Youth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bauhaus,
Sixth Finger,
Siglo XX,
New Order,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Red Krayola,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
T. Rex,
Lower 48,
Intrusion,
Rod Modell,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.