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 Guatemala and from Paris.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rod Modell to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Real Kids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funkadelic,
Sun Ra,
Jeff Lynne,
Los Fastidios,
Outsiders,
Jerry's Kids,
The Smoke,
Glambeats Corp.,
Silicon Teens,
Oblivians,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Gories,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Accadde A,
Maurizio,
The Move,
The Doors,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Radio Birdman,
Saccharine Trust,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül II,
Quantec,
Minnie Riperton,
Barrington Levy,
Subhumans,
Eve St. Jones,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jawbox,
Rufus Thomas,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Vogues,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Unwound,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Busters,
Severed Heads,
Nation of Ulysses,
KRS-One,
New Order,
Japan,
Scratch Acid,
The Sonics,
Brass Construction,
The Black Dice,
Massinfluence,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Offenders,
X-Ray Spex,
cv313,
The Walker Brothers,
The Smiths,
Circle Jerks,
Qualms,
Gastr Del Sol,
Todd Rundgren,
Gregory Isaacs,
Michelle Simonal,
Ultra Naté,
the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics, the Sonics.
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.