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 Lebanon and from Lagos.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Sexual Harrassment to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Junior Murvin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Godley & Creme,
Lucky Dragons,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Technova,
Leonard Cohen,
Television,
UT,
Frankie Knuckles,
Groovy Waters,
Bill Wells,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Gang Starr,
Popol Vuh,
The Litter,
David Axelrod,
Organ,
E-Dancer,
Second Layer,
Pere Ubu,
Traffic Nightmare,
Magazine,
Bad Manners,
Little Man,
Underground Resistance,
Y Pants,
Arthur Verocai,
Sun City Girls,
Marvin Gaye,
David Bowie,
Scrapy,
The Move,
Jawbox,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Aural Exciters,
Kas Product,
The Beau Brummels,
Boz Scaggs,
Aaron Thompson,
Eric Dolphy,
Silicon Teens,
Joe Smooth,
The Fugs,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Slackers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Knickerbockers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Marine Girls,
Crime,
The Mojo Men,
Radio Birdman,
The Tremeloes,
The Toasters,
Mission of Burma,
The Red Krayola,
DJ Style,
Reuben Wilson,
cv313,
The Fall,
Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay, Vladislav Delay.
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.