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 South Africa and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Man Parrish to the crunk 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All The Dave Clark Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Suburban Knight record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minor Threat,
Fat Boys,
Amon Düül,
Fugazi,
Agent Orange,
the Association,
Scion,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joey Negro,
Idris Muhammad,
These Immortal Souls,
Kas Product,
Pet Shop Boys,
Grandmaster Flash,
Mission of Burma,
Lebanon Hanover,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Soft Machine,
The Names,
Donald Byrd,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Crime,
The Wake,
Cluster,
Livin' Joy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
Cameo,
Pole,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Flesh Eaters,
Icehouse,
Joe Smooth,
Dawn Penn,
ABC,
The Index,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Cale,
The Red Krayola,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Duran Duran,
Essential Logic,
The Victims,
Grey Daturas,
Jawbox,
Unrelated Segments,
the Soft Cell,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lalann,
Masters at Work,
Jacques Brel,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Real Kids,
The Misunderstood,
Letta Mbulu,
Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth, Sonic Youth.
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.