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 Kosovo and from Lyon.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Shanghai.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Television Personalities to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
Clear Light,
Delta 5,
Black Pus,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Royal Trux,
Matthew Halsall,
The Motions,
Erykah Badu,
Ken Boothe,
The Litter,
Bush Tetras,
Marvin Gaye,
Man Parrish,
Mo-Dettes,
Black Bananas,
Oblivians,
Mr. Review,
Tears for Fears,
Pet Shop Boys,
Neil Young,
Cluster,
Josef K,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Cheater Slicks,
Wally Richardson,
Quando Quango,
Marine Girls,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nation of Ulysses,
Graham Central Station,
Aural Exciters,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Oneida,
Soulsonic Force,
Eddi Front,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Animal Collective,
the Normal,
Howard Jones,
H. Thieme,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Steve Hackett,
the Germs,
Supertramp,
Lee Hazlewood,
T. Rex,
AZ,
FM Einheit,
Black Moon,
Guru Guru,
Excepter,
cv313,
The Alarm Clocks,
Easy Going,
Pussy Galore,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.