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 Iraq 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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 arpeggiator 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 Rapeman to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Lower 48 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Severed Heads,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Eurythmics,
The Cowsills,
Soulsonic Force,
Andrew Hill,
Gang of Four,
Liliput,
Janne Schatter,
Von Mondo,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sister Nancy,
Slave,
Althea and Donna,
Mandrill,
Carl Craig,
Deadbeat,
The Pop Group,
DJ Sneak,
Rapeman,
Warsaw,
Roxy Music,
Banda Bassotti,
Neil Young,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ultra Naté,
E-Dancer,
Parry Music,
The Fuzztones,
Sparks,
Oneida,
Tom Boy,
Heaven 17,
Chris & Cosey,
Loose Ends,
Wings,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Gladiators,
Grey Daturas,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Moody Blues,
Pere Ubu,
Nico,
DNA,
The Velvet Underground,
China Crisis,
Tommy Roe,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Golliwogs,
The Offenders,
The Modern Lovers,
Dead Boys,
Pharoah Sanders,
John Coltrane,
Can,
Urselle,
Prince Buster,
Swans,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.