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 Chile and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 spring reverb 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The J.B.'s record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
Grey Daturas,
FM Einheit,
Subhumans,
Ronan,
Colin Newman,
Shuggie Otis,
Eric Copeland,
The Red Krayola,
Thee Headcoats,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eve St. Jones,
Alphaville,
Man Eating Sloth,
Roxette,
Icehouse,
Peter and Kerry,
Bill Wells,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Morten Harket,
Quadrant,
Glenn Branca,
Ultra Naté,
Japan,
The Flesh Eaters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cheater Slicks,
The Victims,
Moby Grape,
The Mighty Diamonds,
T.S.O.L.,
the Bar-Kays,
Girls At Our Best!,
Average White Band,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Wire,
Man Parrish,
Can,
Inner City,
Cabaret Voltaire,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eurythmics,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Monolake,
Y Pants,
The Five Americans,
The Trojans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
Motorama,
The Zeros,
Eden Ahbez,
The Offenders,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Robert Wyatt,
AZ,
Harry Pussy,
Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux, Royal Trux.
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.