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 Swaziland and from Columbus.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 The Real Kids to the grime 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Excepter,
The Moody Blues,
Animal Collective,
The Shadows of Knight,
Supertramp,
Scion,
The Kinks,
The New Christs,
Juan Atkins,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arthur Verocai,
Organ,
Hoover,
The Blues Magoos,
Graham Central Station,
Pulsallama,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Lower 48,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Durutti Column,
The Slackers,
Bill Near,
Moebius,
Hasil Adkins,
The Dirtbombs,
D'Angelo,
Al Stewart,
Ice-T,
Jawbox,
Bang On A Can,
Metal Thangz,
Boogie Down Productions,
Aural Exciters,
Faraquet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
8 Eyed Spy,
Deepchord,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Mission of Burma,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül II,
Lucky Dragons,
Dead Boys,
T.S.O.L.,
James White and The Blacks,
Groovy Waters,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gang of Four,
The Happenings,
the Normal,
Ultimate Spinach,
June of 44,
Mark Hollis,
Matthew Bourne,
The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros, The Zeros.
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.