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 Afghanistan and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Donny Hathaway to the rap 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 F. McDonald. All the underground hits.
All Intrusion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
EPMD,
Unrelated Segments,
The Count Five,
Alton Ellis,
Boz Scaggs,
Matthew Bourne,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ornette Coleman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Glenn Branca,
Crooked Eye,
Depeche Mode,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Magma,
Dead Boys,
Roxette,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Q and Not U,
Aaron Thompson,
The Knickerbockers,
Bobby Byrd,
In Retrospect,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Tomorrow,
Sixth Finger,
Sarah Menescal,
Ponytail,
The Gladiators,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rites of Spring,
The Remains,
The Fire Engines,
Rod Modell,
The Toasters,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ultimate Spinach,
Byron Stingily,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
Desert Stars,
B.T. Express,
Aural Exciters,
D'Angelo,
Faust,
Dark Day,
Grey Daturas,
Joey Negro,
Gichy Dan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Pagans,
Harry Pussy,
The Doobie Brothers,
Sällskapet,
Gastr Del Sol,
the Human League,
Don Cherry,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Y Pants,
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.