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 El Salvador and from Columbus.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Strawberry Alarm Clock to the funk 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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
The United States of America,
T. Rex,
Erasure,
David Axelrod,
The Residents,
Can,
Jeff Mills,
The Gap Band,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gang Green,
The Tremeloes,
The Young Rascals,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Blackbyrds,
Banda Bassotti,
These Immortal Souls,
Jacques Brel,
Aloha Tigers,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Buckinghams,
Franke,
X-Ray Spex,
T.S.O.L.,
Ten City,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brothers Johnson,
One Last Wish,
Matthew Bourne,
Scott Walker,
The Moody Blues,
The Saints,
Excepter,
Nirvana,
the Germs,
Curtis Mayfield,
Bronski Beat,
the Sonics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bobby Byrd,
Wings,
Joensuu 1685,
The Doobie Brothers,
Archie Shepp,
Bang On A Can,
Gerry Rafferty,
Easy Going,
Hashim,
Tubeway Army,
Rapeman,
Simply Red,
Black Sheep,
Shuggie Otis,
Steve Hackett,
The Smoke,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Misunderstood,
Heaven 17,
The Count Five,
Todd Terry,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
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.