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 Antigua and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the organ 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 crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Reuben Wilson. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Negative Approach record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a This Heat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brick,
The Young Rascals,
The Electric Prunes,
Neil Young,
The Monochrome Set,
Fugazi,
Royal Trux,
Marshall Jefferson,
the Slits,
Sight & Sound,
Excepter,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Minutemen,
Smog,
ABBA,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Fania All-Stars,
Duran Duran,
Fat Boys,
Davy DMX,
Khruangbin,
the Bar-Kays,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
MDC,
Country Teasers,
Gang Starr,
Pulsallama,
Rotary Connection,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Black Sheep,
Anakelly,
Hot Snakes,
Technova,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quando Quango,
The Monks,
Franke,
Newcleus,
Sound Behaviour,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Flesh Eaters,
Erasure,
The United States of America,
Thee Headcoats,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Misunderstood,
The Toasters,
Joe Finger,
Josef K,
One Last Wish,
Cal Tjader,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Henry Cow,
The Dead C,
Thompson Twins,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II, Amon Düül II.
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.