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 Latvia and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 marimba 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 AZ to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Kango’s Stein Massive. All the underground hits.
All Black Bananas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faust 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
The Electric Prunes,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail,
A Certain Ratio,
Rosa Yemen,
Can,
Roxy Music,
Deadbeat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Stereo Dub,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rakim,
The Mojo Men,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
Ronan,
The Barracudas,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Underground Resistance,
Surgeon,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Monks,
Hoover,
The Smiths,
The Gun Club,
The Durutti Column,
Joe Finger,
Radio Birdman,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lungfish,
Lakeside,
The Dead C,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Al Stewart,
Pulsallama,
Pantytec,
Pussy Galore,
Sun City Girls,
Bizarre Inc.,
Jeff Mills,
Banda Bassotti,
Piero Umiliani,
The Stooges,
The New Christs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Harmonia,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
Audionom,
K-Klass,
Glambeats Corp.,
Supertramp,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moody Blues,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.