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 Kenya and from Copenhagen.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare 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 Ice-T to the dance 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dawn Penn record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Parry Music,
Suburban Knight,
Simply Red,
Easy Going,
Mary Jane Girls,
Black Bananas,
The Fuzztones,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Index,
The Residents,
Lucky Dragons,
Pierre Henry,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Boredoms,
The Vogues,
Bauhaus,
Clear Light,
the Swans,
Davy DMX,
Lower 48,
Bluetip,
Tears for Fears,
Flipper,
The Evens,
Johnny Clarke,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Mummies,
Hashim,
Unrelated Segments,
In Retrospect,
Spandau Ballet,
Bizarre Inc.,
Qualms,
Harmonia,
Ludus,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Newcleus,
Severed Heads,
Gang Green,
Gichy Dan,
Radiohead,
Angry Samoans,
Minutemen,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Inner City,
Lyres,
The American Breed,
Camouflage,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arab on Radar,
Gang of Four,
Anthony Braxton,
Bobbi Humphrey,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Moon,
Hardrive,
Leonard Cohen,
The Cowsills,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Amon Düül II,
China Crisis,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.