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 Ethiopia and from Milan.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Tehran.
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 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 Crispian St. Peters to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Patti Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David McCallum record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Light Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Stetsasonic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Pantytec,
Eddi Front,
Ronnie Foster,
Robert Wyatt,
Mars,
Wire,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Index,
Roxette,
The Mummies,
Brick,
Black Moon,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Camouflage,
These Immortal Souls,
June Days,
Lightning Bolt,
The Techniques,
Bootsy Collins,
Al Stewart,
Sound Behaviour,
Bronski Beat,
Nik Kershaw,
Rufus Thomas,
Grey Daturas,
Gichy Dan,
Davy DMX,
Cecil Taylor,
Unwound,
kango's stein massive,
Yellowson,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Gories,
Pulsallama,
Boz Scaggs,
D'Angelo,
T.S.O.L.,
Banda Bassotti,
Eden Ahbez,
the Association,
Pole,
Mission of Burma,
Marine Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Music Machine,
Jeff Mills,
Jandek,
John Coltrane,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
Yusef Lateef,
David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum, David McCallum.
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.