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 Sri Lanka and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Boz Scaggs to the rock 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 Adolescents. All the underground hits.
All The Toasters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pierre Henry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
Brothers Johnson,
Clear Light,
Delta 5,
Wings,
Joey Negro,
Pole,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Human League,
Laurel Aitken,
Erasure,
Suicide,
Bootsy Collins,
10cc,
Loose Ends,
Bobby Byrd,
Easy Going,
Metal Thangz,
Lindisfarne,
Judy Mowatt,
Alphaville,
Harpers Bizarre,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fugs,
Amazonics,
Albert Ayler,
Pantaleimon,
Todd Rundgren,
The Knickerbockers,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pylon,
the Germs,
Anthony Braxton,
The Move,
Flash Fearless,
Hardrive,
Pere Ubu,
Aloha Tigers,
Eden Ahbez,
Terry Callier,
Jerry's Kids,
Roxy Music,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Guru Guru,
Rod Modell,
Au Pairs,
Simply Red,
F. McDonald,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Soft Cell,
Reuben Wilson,
Brick,
Motorama,
Severed Heads,
Whodini,
The Remains,
The Gun Club,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pagans,
Gil Scott Heron,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Monks,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.