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 China and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the organ 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 Kings Of Tomorrow to the disco 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 Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth. All the underground hits.
All Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Babytalk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mo-Dettes,
Loose Ends,
Tomorrow,
Pantaleimon,
Monolake,
Flash Fearless,
Can,
Zapp,
Vainqueur,
Nation of Ulysses,
Gang Starr,
Bill Wells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glenn Branca,
Johnny Clarke,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Ludus,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fire Engines,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Kaleidoscope,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eric Copeland,
Ten City,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Mad Mike,
Jacques Brel,
The Sound,
Malaria!,
The Sonics,
Letta Mbulu,
R.M.O.,
Dual Sessions,
Little Man,
Ossler,
Jeff Lynne,
The Skatalites,
The Misunderstood,
The Last Poets,
Ralphi Rosario,
Alton Ellis,
Bluetip,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Smiths,
Audionom,
the Association,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
Zero Boys,
L. Decosne,
Moebius,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Count Five,
The Cowsills,
Maurizio,
Tres Demented,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.