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 Johannesburg.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 organ 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 X-101 to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 EPMD. All the underground hits.
All Marshall Jefferson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Marine Girls,
Delta 5,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kerrie Biddell,
Roxy Music,
Sexual Harrassment,
Judy Mowatt,
Anthony Braxton,
Ralphi Rosario,
Tubeway Army,
8 Eyed Spy,
Goldenarms,
Vladislav Delay,
Sparks,
Angry Samoans,
Franke,
Skarface,
Toni Rubio,
Niagra,
Todd Rundgren,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Move,
H. Thieme,
Pet Shop Boys,
Au Pairs,
Bauhaus,
The Real Kids,
The Evens,
Nik Kershaw,
The Fugs,
Bill Wells,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nils Olav,
D'Angelo,
Bob Dylan,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Motorama,
Aural Exciters,
Don Cherry,
cv313,
Masters at Work,
Kayak,
Crispy Ambulance,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Yaz,
Cal Tjader,
Ice-T,
The Fall,
Hashim,
Patti Smith,
Neu!,
T. Rex,
The United States of America,
Dead Boys,
These Immortal Souls,
Harmonia,
Matthew Bourne,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Kaleidoscope,
The Cramps,
Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas, Rufus Thomas.
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.