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 Panama and from Manchester.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Toronto.
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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Star Department to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Reagan Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Los Fastidios record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
The Golliwogs,
Pagans,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cramps,
Altered Images,
Rufus Thomas,
Sam Rivers,
Sister Nancy,
Absolute Body Control,
Stiv Bators,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hot Snakes,
10cc,
Bobby Byrd,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roxette,
The Fire Engines,
Roger Hodgson,
Davy DMX,
U.S. Maple,
Fat Boys,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Walker Brothers,
Marine Girls,
Minutemen,
Glambeats Corp.,
the Swans,
Barrington Levy,
Drexciya,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mr. Review,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The J.B.'s,
Rod Modell,
The Human League,
Pulsallama,
Lakeside,
The United States of America,
Arab on Radar,
Babytalk,
Roy Ayers,
Youth Brigade,
Minor Threat,
Half Japanese,
Subhumans,
Tears for Fears,
Danielle Patucci,
Can,
The Saints,
Eric Dolphy,
Severed Heads,
Anakelly,
The Smoke,
Sexual Harrassment,
Easy Going,
Jacob Miller,
Cameo,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.