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 Marshall Islands and from New York.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dual Sessions to the crunk 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 Bizarre Inc.. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 an oboe and a spring reverb 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 arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
The Toasters,
John Holt,
Symarip,
Flamin' Groovies,
Black Flag,
The Monks,
LL Cool J,
The J.B.'s,
Khruangbin,
Harry Pussy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Tommy Roe,
Barry Ungar,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Robert Görl,
Judy Mowatt,
Charles Mingus,
Rakim,
Mars,
Nas,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monochrome Set,
OOIOO,
Ituana,
Whodini,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Connie Case,
Babytalk,
Mark Hollis,
Jacques Brel,
The Five Americans,
Bill Wells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Stooges,
Marvin Gaye,
Essential Logic,
Vainqueur,
The Residents,
Pole,
Rosa Yemen,
Absolute Body Control,
Brand Nubian,
Susan Cadogan,
Reuben Wilson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
DNA,
Bush Tetras,
Matthew Halsall,
E-Dancer,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Fuzztones,
The Litter,
Animal Collective,
Lakeside,
Crooked Eye,
The Cowsills,
Soft Machine,
Unwound,
Eurythmics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Index,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.