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 Congo and from Columbus.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Lalann to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Be Bop Deluxe. All the underground hits.
All Tim Buckley tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fatback Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
Mars,
D'Angelo,
The Happenings,
Angry Samoans,
Unrelated Segments,
Wasted Youth,
The Searchers,
The Smoke,
These Immortal Souls,
Simply Red,
Talk Talk,
Hasil Adkins,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Cybotron,
Delon & Dalcan,
Soulsonic Force,
Tears for Fears,
Spandau Ballet,
Ten City,
The Index,
Los Fastidios,
Banda Bassotti,
Arthur Verocai,
Buzzcocks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Sixth Finger,
The Techniques,
Ludus,
Iggy Pop,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Foxx,
FM Einheit,
Lou Christie,
Lower 48,
Model 500,
Blake Baxter,
Nirvana,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Moss Icon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Urselle,
Arab on Radar,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
UT,
James Chance & The Contortions,
T. Rex,
Brass Construction,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
Eddi Front,
Visage,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Inner City,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
KRS-One,
Rosa Yemen,
Flamin' Groovies,
The American Breed,
Deakin,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.