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 Benin and from Houston.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Radio Birdman to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Schoolly D. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Unwound record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Urselle,
Royal Trux,
Brick,
The Cramps,
The Velvet Underground,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pagans,
Crash Course in Science,
Liliput,
Stockholm Monsters,
Monks,
The Black Dice,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Pop Group,
This Heat,
Erasure,
Drexciya,
Echospace,
The Standells,
Tomorrow,
Max Romeo,
Swans,
Josef K,
Unrelated Segments,
The Human League,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Brand Nubian,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Teasers,
Simply Red,
UT,
Severed Heads,
Sound Behaviour,
Warsaw,
Idris Muhammad,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Birthday Party,
Gang Green,
Godley & Creme,
Masters at Work,
The Searchers,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fall,
Dawn Penn,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Eurythmics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Barrington Levy,
Loose Ends,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alice Coltrane,
The Red Krayola,
Judy Mowatt,
Soft Cell,
Amazonics,
Steve Hackett,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bang On A Can,
Zero Boys,
Visage,
The Smoke,
The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins, The Moleskins.
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.