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 Ivory Coast and from Manila.
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 Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Tears for Fears to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 T. Rex. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Royal Trux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cosmic Jokers,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
B.T. Express,
Intrusion,
The Last Poets,
Skarface,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Leaves,
Archie Shepp,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Faust,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Ultimate Spinach,
the Swans,
Anakelly,
The Black Dice,
Arthur Verocai,
Alphaville,
Rites of Spring,
Supertramp,
Harry Pussy,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Invisible,
Parry Music,
Minutemen,
Neil Young,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Brass Construction,
Wasted Youth,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Cure,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Sister Nancy,
Derrick Morgan,
Young Marble Giants,
Toni Rubio,
John Holt,
The Barracudas,
Funky Four + One,
Kaleidoscope,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Depeche Mode,
Deepchord,
Yusef Lateef,
Deakin,
The Fire Engines,
Alison Limerick,
The Seeds,
Danielle Patucci,
The Cowsills,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nas,
Skriet,
Morten Harket,
Technova,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Monolake,
The Gladiators,
Radiohead,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.