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 Jamaica and from Milan.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the organ 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 Kango’s Stein Massive to the funk 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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Hashim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Khruangbin,
Piero Umiliani,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Last Poets,
T.S.O.L.,
Toni Rubio,
Eve St. Jones,
The Blackbyrds,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ponytail,
Darondo,
Aaron Thompson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Barrington Levy,
Goldenarms,
Bauhaus,
Ultra Naté,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minor Threat,
Oneida,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Modern Lovers,
Second Layer,
Byron Stingily,
Audionom,
The Associates,
Eli Mardock,
Freddie Wadling,
Severed Heads,
Pylon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q65,
Electric Prunes,
Steve Hackett,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Lou Reed,
Aswad,
Amon Düül,
Animal Collective,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
Talk Talk,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Little Man,
Bill Wells,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Man Eating Sloth,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Joe Finger,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Fuzztones,
The Trojans,
Arcadia,
Bronski Beat,
The Motions,
Country Teasers,
Gong,
Intrusion,
Television Personalities,
The Fortunes,
The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy, The Sisters of Mercy.
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.