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 Thailand and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 David Bowie to the crunk 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 The Leaves. All the underground hits.
All Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sonny Sharrock,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Knickerbockers,
Steve Hackett,
Radio Birdman,
The Leaves,
Theoretical Girls,
Excepter,
Leonard Cohen,
The Doobie Brothers,
JFA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Sparks,
In Retrospect,
Glambeats Corp.,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pierre Henry,
Hardrive,
The Velvet Underground,
Moebius,
Simply Red,
Masters at Work,
Country Teasers,
Bad Manners,
Liliput,
The Zeros,
cv313,
H. Thieme,
June of 44,
Public Enemy,
Drexciya,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Technova,
Franke,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Procol Harum,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Mandrill,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jacob Miller,
Cecil Taylor,
Black Flag,
Vainqueur,
Danielle Patucci,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
The Star Department,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Residents,
Derrick May,
The Dave Clark Five,
Shoche,
Nico,
Alison Limerick,
Infiniti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers, The Searchers.
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.