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 Papua New Guinea and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Masters at Work to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Evens record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Althea and Donna,
Gerry Rafferty,
Nas,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Leaves,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
the Soft Cell,
cv313,
Mars,
The Beau Brummels,
Los Fastidios,
The Black Dice,
Joyce Sims,
Throbbing Gristle,
Derrick May,
Siglo XX,
Isaac Hayes,
The Electric Prunes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Roy Ayers,
Symarip,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Buzzcocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
Junior Murvin,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Motions,
June of 44,
Skriet,
The Five Americans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Sisters of Mercy,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Trojans,
Donny Hathaway,
Suburban Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Marvin Gaye,
Archie Shepp,
John Coltrane,
Anthony Braxton,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Dead C,
Hoover,
Chris & Cosey,
Man Parrish,
Gang Starr,
The Skatalites,
The Saints,
Scientists,
Tommy Roe,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Gregory Isaacs,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soul Sonic Force,
Nils Olav,
Dave Gahan,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.