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 Paraguay and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Banda Bassotti to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Gang of Four tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
X-Ray Spex,
Gregory Isaacs,
Reuben Wilson,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Byrd,
Piero Umiliani,
The Neon Judgement,
Joy Division,
Fatback Band,
Fat Boys,
the Fania All-Stars,
Procol Harum,
E-Dancer,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Circle Jerks,
The Electric Prunes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vainqueur,
Audionom,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Desert Stars,
Sonic Youth,
Fela Kuti,
Carl Craig,
Faust,
The Dave Clark Five,
Pierre Henry,
Nirvana,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Buckinghams,
Scientists,
Organ,
The Victims,
Easy Going,
Johnny Osbourne,
Unwound,
Camberwell Now,
Wasted Youth,
The Busters,
Todd Rundgren,
The Durutti Column,
John Lydon,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lou Reed,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Japan,
Patti Smith,
Jimmy McGriff,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gang Green,
Robert Görl,
Excepter,
Babytalk,
Anthony Braxton,
Supertramp,
June Days,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Saints,
D'Angelo,
Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose, Fifty Foot Hose.
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.