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 Sudan and from Delhi.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
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 F. McDonald to the grunge 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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Alison Limerick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lou Reed record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bush Tetras,
The Monks,
Freddie Wadling,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Bob Dylan,
Erykah Badu,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Susan Cadogan,
Gang of Four,
Shuggie Otis,
Howard Jones,
Supertramp,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric B and Rakim,
The New Christs,
Livin' Joy,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Cramps,
Erasure,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Infiniti,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Moleskins,
Josef K,
Desert Stars,
Carl Craig,
Monks,
Saccharine Trust,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
KRS-One,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Khruangbin,
Quantec,
Marcia Griffiths,
UT,
Faust,
Blancmange,
Sixth Finger,
Sugar Minott,
U.S. Maple,
K-Klass,
Kerrie Biddell,
David McCallum,
The Gories,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Glambeats Corp.,
Radiohead,
Nik Kershaw,
Eric Dolphy,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Dead C,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Normal,
Juan Atkins,
Public Enemy,
The Zeros,
Whodini,
Connie Case,
Tres Demented,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.