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 Nigeria and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 chamberlin 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 Ten City to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Steve Hackett,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Moss Icon,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cluster,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The New Christs,
Lou Reed,
The Red Krayola,
Basic Channel,
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slackers,
Infiniti,
Nils Olav,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pierre Henry,
Pulsallama,
Rekid,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jimmy McGriff,
Pole,
Stockholm Monsters,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bush Tetras,
Pagans,
Duran Duran,
Kayak,
John Foxx,
Franke,
Crime,
Faraquet,
Judy Mowatt,
Symarip,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
DJ Style,
Cheater Slicks,
Silicon Teens,
Quantec,
The Residents,
Animal Collective,
Angry Samoans,
Boredoms,
Fad Gadget,
Laurel Aitken,
ABBA,
The United States of America,
Mo-Dettes,
Surgeon,
Terry Callier,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Deakin,
Peter and Kerry,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
E-Dancer,
Andrew Hill,
Metal Thangz,
Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu, Drive Like Jehu.
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.