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 Seychelles and from Spokane.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
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 808 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dead C. All the underground hits.
All Kool G Rap & DJ Polo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Freddie Wadling,
The Motions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Jacob Miller,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Barracudas,
Vladislav Delay,
The Litter,
The Beau Brummels,
Junior Murvin,
The Blues Magoos,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Saints,
ABBA,
Eric B and Rakim,
Wings,
DJ Sneak,
MC5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Busters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Maleditus Sound,
Mad Mike,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jacques Brel,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Toasters,
The Invisible,
The Golliwogs,
David Bowie,
Suicide,
Gregory Isaacs,
Robert Hood,
Negative Approach,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Arcadia,
The Vogues,
Grey Daturas,
Rakim,
Sonny Sharrock,
Infiniti,
Yusef Lateef,
Henry Cow,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jandek,
Tommy Roe,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Terry Callier,
Neu!,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Khruangbin,
Donald Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
Gerry Rafferty,
Second Layer,
The Moody Blues,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gong,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flamin' Groovies,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.