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 Malawi and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Rakim to the disco 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
The Divine Comedy,
The Martian,
Marc Almond,
Don Cherry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Popol Vuh,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Leonard Cohen,
Joyce Sims,
Hoover,
John Holt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Anthony Braxton,
New Age Steppers,
U.S. Maple,
Underground Resistance,
Public Image Ltd.,
Guru Guru,
Junior Murvin,
Jeff Lynne,
Neil Young,
Newcleus,
X-101,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Kinks,
Das Ding,
The Velvet Underground,
Glambeats Corp.,
Warsaw,
The Index,
Echospace,
Jerry's Kids,
Lou Reed,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Misunderstood,
Ohio Players,
Soft Machine,
Electric Prunes,
Kerri Chandler,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Judy Mowatt,
Basic Channel,
Janne Schatter,
Ronnie Foster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Magazine,
Magma,
MC5,
Lakeside,
Mr. Review,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Human League,
Faust,
Monks,
Dave Gahan,
Minnie Riperton,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control, Absolute Body Control.
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.