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 Mozambique and from Manila.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Kerrie Biddell. All the underground hits.
All Oneida tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Offenders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
New York Dolls,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Cowsills,
In Retrospect,
Gang Starr,
Peter & Gordon,
Saccharine Trust,
Quantec,
Derrick May,
Hoover,
The J.B.'s,
Yazoo,
Neil Young,
Interpol,
Suburban Knight,
Stereo Dub,
Eric Dolphy,
Fatback Band,
Khruangbin,
Index,
Con Funk Shun,
Minutemen,
Eddi Front,
Wings,
Cheater Slicks,
Metal Thangz,
Model 500,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Tropical Tobacco,
Pere Ubu,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Brick,
The Beau Brummels,
Roxy Music,
Hot Snakes,
The Count Five,
The Slackers,
Rotary Connection,
Pulsallama,
Blake Baxter,
Urselle,
CMW,
Sam Rivers,
Terry Callier,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Audionom,
Vainqueur,
Derrick Morgan,
The Smoke,
Nico,
The Techniques,
Motorama,
PIL,
Black Bananas,
The Barracudas,
Spoonie Gee,
Nils Olav,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
Cluster,
cv313,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville, Alphaville.
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.