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 Zimbabwe and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Severed Heads to the rap 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 Arthur Verocai. All the underground hits.
All Country Joe & The Fish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Outsiders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Crash Course in Science,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mummies,
Sonic Youth,
Faraquet,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Vainqueur,
Young Marble Giants,
The Black Dice,
Sugar Minott,
Mission of Burma,
Sister Nancy,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Invisible,
Adolescents,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Wings,
a-ha,
Yaz,
Freddie Wadling,
Soul Sonic Force,
Ultra Naté,
Rites of Spring,
June Days,
Man Eating Sloth,
Zero Boys,
Harmonia,
Slave,
DNA,
Leonard Cohen,
Lou Reed,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter & Gordon,
The Motions,
Eddi Front,
Sly & The Family Stone,
David Axelrod,
Funkadelic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Reuben Wilson,
Surgeon,
Sandy B,
Big Daddy Kane,
Organ,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Victims,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Trumans Water,
Clear Light,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
Kool Moe Dee,
Flash Fearless,
The Searchers,
Bauhaus,
Minor Threat,
Bobby Sherman,
Thompson Twins,
Dave Gahan,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.