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 Singapore and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Bob Dylan to the grunge 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All The Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Infiniti record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
The Moody Blues,
Leonard Cohen,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Swans,
Rites of Spring,
New York Dolls,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Funkadelic,
The Happenings,
Joyce Sims,
The Music Machine,
The Gap Band,
Surgeon,
The Litter,
Zapp,
Glambeats Corp.,
Parry Music,
Wings,
Deakin,
Bang On A Can,
Marc Almond,
Pussy Galore,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Rotary Connection,
Moebius,
New Order,
Television,
Bizarre Inc.,
Faust,
Pylon,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sarah Menescal,
L. Decosne,
Peter and Kerry,
Arthur Verocai,
OOIOO,
H. Thieme,
E-Dancer,
The Zeros,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cabaret Voltaire,
John Lydon,
Khruangbin,
Moss Icon,
The Black Dice,
Severed Heads,
Godley & Creme,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Laurel Aitken,
Von Mondo,
Neu!,
Supertramp,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Brand Nubian,
Porter Ricks,
Theoretical Girls,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eric Copeland,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Misunderstood,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.