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 Burundi and from Delhi.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 mellotron 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 Minnie Riperton to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Parry Music record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grauzone,
Harry Pussy,
Fluxion,
Surgeon,
Fad Gadget,
The Gap Band,
Glenn Branca,
Josef K,
The Leaves,
The Remains,
Agent Orange,
Absolute Body Control,
Tubeway Army,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dead C,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
Popol Vuh,
Marcia Griffiths,
Buzzcocks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lakeside,
Saccharine Trust,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Agitation Free,
Mantronix,
Make Up,
Archie Shepp,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eden Ahbez,
Stereo Dub,
Barclay James Harvest,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Kinks,
The Stooges,
Lou Christie,
The Cure,
Stetsasonic,
Talk Talk,
the Sonics,
The Seeds,
Section 25,
Reagan Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Swans,
Motorama,
The Residents,
Hasil Adkins,
The Gladiators,
Dennis Brown,
Magma,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
The Offenders,
Johnny Osbourne,
Average White Band,
Cameo,
Yellowson,
Los Fastidios,
The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets, The Last Poets.
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.