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 Guinea-Bissau and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 synthesizer 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 Rekid to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Roxette tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Dawn Penn,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Panda Bear,
Pussy Galore,
the Normal,
The Knickerbockers,
Quadrant,
Agitation Free,
Black Pus,
Althea and Donna,
Hot Snakes,
X-Ray Spex,
The Neon Judgement,
Alice Coltrane,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Associates,
The Detroit Cobras,
Kurtis Blow,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
Can,
Prince Buster,
Sam Rivers,
the Swans,
Alison Limerick,
Cheater Slicks,
Eden Ahbez,
Leonard Cohen,
Donny Hathaway,
Negative Approach,
The Cramps,
Gang Green,
Fat Boys,
Iggy Pop,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Rufus Thomas,
Lindisfarne,
The Golliwogs,
Aaron Thompson,
Pantaleimon,
Arcadia,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerrie Biddell,
Grey Daturas,
The Motions,
Inner City,
Con Funk Shun,
the Bar-Kays,
Joyce Sims,
Barry Ungar,
Brick,
Mr. Review,
Pulsallama,
Bang On A Can,
Grandmaster Flash,
Minnie Riperton,
Deadbeat,
Robert Görl,
DJ Sneak,
Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys, Zero Boys.
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.