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 Denmark and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the dance 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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Harry Pussy,
Sugar Minott,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Real Kids,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
In Retrospect,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
OOIOO,
E-Dancer,
The Moody Blues,
Davy DMX,
Stiv Bators,
T. Rex,
Arab on Radar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Minutemen,
Lucky Dragons,
Lightning Bolt,
Frankie Knuckles,
Interpol,
Scientists,
Kenny Larkin,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Susan Cadogan,
Loose Ends,
The Happenings,
Grey Daturas,
Gang Green,
Ronan,
Roy Ayers,
Au Pairs,
La Düsseldorf,
The Mummies,
Graham Central Station,
the Sonics,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Toasters,
Dawn Penn,
Matthew Halsall,
The Searchers,
Scion,
Avey Tare,
Pussy Galore,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Althea and Donna,
Ken Boothe,
DJ Sneak,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
AZ,
The Golliwogs,
The Seeds,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Model 500,
Liliput,
Ituana,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
Swell Maps,
the Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J, LL Cool J.
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.