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 United Kingdom and from Jakarta.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Mojo Men to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Deakin tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deadbeat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rakim,
Crooked Eye,
The Sound,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Litter,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Black Flag,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Pharoah Sanders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Cal Tjader,
Lalo Schifrin,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Wasted Youth,
Television,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bobby Sherman,
Eli Mardock,
Swans,
The Shadows of Knight,
Juan Atkins,
Massinfluence,
Country Teasers,
Wolf Eyes,
Black Moon,
Donny Hathaway,
Cymande,
Robert Hood,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Gong,
Ronan,
Joy Division,
Faraquet,
Stiv Bators,
Quadrant,
Eric Copeland,
Byron Stingily,
Intrusion,
Pere Ubu,
Sandy B,
Make Up,
Lungfish,
The Buckinghams,
The Dirtbombs,
Guru Guru,
Quando Quango,
Warsaw,
Jerry's Kids,
The Young Rascals,
the Swans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Underground Resistance,
Aloha Tigers,
Aswad,
Yellowson,
The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics, The Sonics.
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.