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 Niger and from Seoul.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the organ 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 Deadbeat to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 D'Angelo. All the underground hits.
All John Lydon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Leaves record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Interpol record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
China Crisis,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Matthew Bourne,
Bush Tetras,
Scrapy,
Byron Stingily,
Thee Headcoats,
Subhumans,
The Seeds,
The New Christs,
Q65,
Minny Pops,
Supertramp,
Pulsallama,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Crime,
New Order,
The Fugs,
Bobby Sherman,
Ponytail,
Skriet,
Interpol,
Amazonics,
John Coltrane,
Spandau Ballet,
The Doors,
The Victims,
The Martian,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Con Funk Shun,
Grauzone,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Little Man,
Aloha Tigers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Dead C,
Ultimate Spinach,
Fear,
Cameo,
Godley & Creme,
Cecil Taylor,
Gong,
The Gladiators,
Ronnie Foster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Peter and Kerry,
The Happenings,
The Slits,
Public Enemy,
Brass Construction,
Sight & Sound,
Au Pairs,
Steve Hackett,
Tears for Fears,
The Detroit Cobras,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jerry's Kids,
Bronski Beat,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Bar-Kays,
Masters at Work,
Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope, Kaleidoscope.
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.