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 Afghanistan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Boredoms to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Saints,
Smog,
Swans,
Joyce Sims,
Tommy Roe,
Black Pus,
Todd Terry,
Harry Pussy,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dave Clark Five,
Crooked Eye,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Monks,
JFA,
Mars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Mantronix,
The Selecter,
The Moleskins,
The Names,
Nation of Ulysses,
Groovy Waters,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Eve St. Jones,
MDC,
Eric Dolphy,
Minny Pops,
The Slackers,
Donny Hathaway,
Excepter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Sällskapet,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
The Monochrome Set,
Gong,
Peter and Kerry,
Can,
Aloha Tigers,
Robert Görl,
Vladislav Delay,
Neu!,
The Litter,
Silicon Teens,
Fela Kuti,
Robert Hood,
The Sonics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sonic Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
KRS-One,
Bobby Womack,
Absolute Body Control,
Alison Limerick,
Stockholm Monsters,
Essential Logic,
the Association,
Skaos,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Steve Hackett,
Flipper, Flipper, Flipper, Flipper.
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.