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 Belize and from Calgary.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Lagos.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
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 Jimmy McGriff to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 the Normal. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T. Rex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Severed Heads record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sandy B,
The Durutti Column,
New Order,
Crispy Ambulance,
Todd Rundgren,
Faraquet,
The Move,
Don Cherry,
Scratch Acid,
Freddie Wadling,
Ponytail,
The Tremeloes,
Hot Snakes,
The Young Rascals,
Thee Headcoats,
Alison Limerick,
The Techniques,
Grey Daturas,
JFA,
Simply Red,
Bad Manners,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Divine Comedy,
Y Pants,
Q and Not U,
Eric Dolphy,
Nik Kershaw,
Marmalade,
This Heat,
Ohio Players,
Toni Rubio,
Sällskapet,
Cybotron,
Soulsonic Force,
Jeff Mills,
Organ,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Sunsets and Hearts,
Jacques Brel,
The Knickerbockers,
Man Eating Sloth,
Model 500,
The Detroit Cobras,
Funkadelic,
ABBA,
Altered Images,
Gang Green,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Qualms,
Roger Hodgson,
Niagra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Fela Kuti,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
OOIOO,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Anthony Braxton,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Tomorrow,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.