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 New Zealand and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 808 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 Minnie Riperton to the disco 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 Nick Fraelich. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gichy Dan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Hood,
Cheater Slicks,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Swell Maps,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Flag,
Unrelated Segments,
Chris Corsano,
Absolute Body Control,
Gregory Isaacs,
China Crisis,
Adolescents,
Electric Prunes,
Brothers Johnson,
The Stooges,
Suicide,
The Slackers,
Maurizio,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Intrusion,
The Motions,
U.S. Maple,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Deadbeat,
Radio Birdman,
Eddi Front,
the Germs,
Aural Exciters,
Matthew Halsall,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aloha Tigers,
The Saints,
Whodini,
LL Cool J,
John Coltrane,
Von Mondo,
Flash Fearless,
Rekid,
Crooked Eye,
The Standells,
Newcleus,
Warsaw,
Lou Reed,
Moebius,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ken Boothe,
Loose Ends,
Mark Hollis,
Heaven 17,
Khruangbin,
New Age Steppers,
Magma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Star Department,
Model 500,
Cal Tjader,
Organ,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.