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 Tajikistan and from Glasgow.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the 808 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 jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lee Hazlewood. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Freddie Wadling,
Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Ten City,
Gang Green,
The New Christs,
Altered Images,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fugs,
Tres Demented,
Gichy Dan,
Parry Music,
World's Most,
Erasure,
Kool Moe Dee,
Lower 48,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
Lyres,
The Five Americans,
Robert Hood,
Severed Heads,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Trumans Water,
The Golliwogs,
L. Decosne,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Chrome,
The Trojans,
Max Romeo,
Boredoms,
Camberwell Now,
The Raincoats,
Brothers Johnson,
The Victims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Eric Copeland,
La Düsseldorf,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
Camouflage,
Sandy B,
Moss Icon,
Au Pairs,
The Misunderstood,
Negative Approach,
Crispian St. Peters,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
Sun Ra,
Crash Course in Science,
Prince Buster,
The Associates,
Section 25,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Skarface,
The Human League,
Bobby Hutcherson,
CMW, CMW, CMW, CMW.
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.