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 Seychelles and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Organ to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Junior Murvin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nico,
Tres Demented,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Mojo Men,
D'Angelo,
the Association,
The Busters,
Kurtis Blow,
The Motions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Severed Heads,
Niagra,
Spandau Ballet,
Agent Orange,
Hardrive,
Maurizio,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Dave Clark Five,
Black Moon,
H. Thieme,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lucky Dragons,
Bootsy Collins,
Bobby Womack,
Duran Duran,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Todd Terry,
Adolescents,
Infiniti,
Aural Exciters,
The Fugs,
Hasil Adkins,
Fear,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Ornette Coleman,
The Fortunes,
Nik Kershaw,
The Happenings,
Wasted Youth,
Barbara Tucker,
Crime,
The Toasters,
R.M.O.,
Masters at Work,
The Pretty Things,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Beau Brummels,
Howard Jones,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ituana,
The Standells,
This Heat,
Unwound,
China Crisis,
Pharoah Sanders,
Chrome,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Andrew Hill,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.