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 India and from Toronto.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The American Breed to the grunge 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
Laurel Aitken,
Jandek,
The Red Krayola,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Martian,
The Slits,
The Human League,
Groovy Waters,
A Certain Ratio,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ken Boothe,
Crooked Eye,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tres Demented,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Byrd,
Janne Schatter,
X-101,
U.S. Maple,
Black Sheep,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Supertramp,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skriet,
Oneida,
Rekid,
Hot Snakes,
Ituana,
Desert Stars,
Minor Threat,
The Birthday Party,
Jeru the Damaja,
Stockholm Monsters,
Depeche Mode,
T. Rex,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Donny Hathaway,
Negative Approach,
Arthur Verocai,
FM Einheit,
Tubeway Army,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Zapp,
The Cure,
Pole,
Barrington Levy,
Franke,
Sun Ra,
Sarah Menescal,
The Music Machine,
Rhythm & Sound,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sexual Harrassment,
This Heat,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Model 500,
Guru Guru,
The Names,
Nico,
Magma,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.