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 Burkina and from Mexico City.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Nils Olav to the crunk 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 Rapeman. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a OOIOO record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Franke,
Black Bananas,
Pole,
Dual Sessions,
Sällskapet,
The Fire Engines,
Jeru the Damaja,
Spoonie Gee,
Eve St. Jones,
The Birthday Party,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Minny Pops,
Intrusion,
Ken Boothe,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pulsallama,
The Shadows of Knight,
Slave,
Agitation Free,
Sister Nancy,
Swans,
Charles Mingus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Tomorrow,
Tom Boy,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang On A Can,
Kerri Chandler,
Black Moon,
Zero Boys,
Jacob Miller,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Oblivians,
Marine Girls,
The New Christs,
Mission of Burma,
The Dirtbombs,
the Normal,
Inner City,
Moby Grape,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Symarip,
Blancmange,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Frankie Knuckles,
Unwound,
Swell Maps,
The Victims,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Toasters,
Skaos,
Japan,
Man Parrish,
Camouflage,
Terrestrial Tones,
Tres Demented,
Robert Wyatt,
A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls, A Flock of Seagulls.
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.