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 Greece and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Public Enemy to the techno 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 Lizzy Mercier Descloux. All the underground hits.
All Major Organ And The Adding Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sparks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Urselle,
Fatback Band,
The J.B.'s,
Dawn Penn,
Bang On A Can,
H. Thieme,
The Toasters,
Bill Near,
Robert Görl,
The Grass Roots,
Adolescents,
June Days,
F. McDonald,
The Blackbyrds,
U.S. Maple,
PIL,
Ornette Coleman,
The Dirtbombs,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hot Snakes,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
New Age Steppers,
Al Stewart,
L. Decosne,
Leonard Cohen,
Curtis Mayfield,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Harpers Bizarre,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mission of Burma,
Pere Ubu,
Pylon,
Mark Hollis,
The Cowsills,
Mantronix,
The Invisible,
Spoonie Gee,
Hasil Adkins,
The Human League,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Move,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gichy Dan,
The Fortunes,
Wings,
Lebanon Hanover,
Mary Jane Girls,
Jeru the Damaja,
Eli Mardock,
Carl Craig,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gabor Szabo,
Vainqueur,
Bluetip,
The Five Americans,
One Last Wish,
The Red Krayola,
Ice-T,
Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks, Buzzcocks.
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.