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 Portugal and from Calgary.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 güiro 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 Crooked Eye to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Agitation Free. All the underground hits.
All Echospace tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shuggie Otis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Spandau Ballet,
Camouflage,
Toni Rubio,
The Five Americans,
Nirvana,
The Knickerbockers,
Bizarre Inc.,
Wolf Eyes,
Quadrant,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scientists,
Rapeman,
Fluxion,
The Offenders,
The Barracudas,
Roy Ayers,
The Fugs,
Cecil Taylor,
Quantec,
Hashim,
T.S.O.L.,
Bill Near,
Kerri Chandler,
Goldenarms,
ABBA,
Amon Düül,
Main Source,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Brothers Johnson,
Ken Boothe,
Cheater Slicks,
Ossler,
Brick,
MDC,
Wally Richardson,
Franke,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Jeff Lynne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Howard Jones,
Deakin,
Yaz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Lucky Dragons,
Carl Craig,
The Pretty Things,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
Blossom Toes,
The Martian,
Mission of Burma,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ultravox,
Black Flag,
Vladislav Delay,
the Germs,
Fat Boys,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Smiths,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.