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 Lesotho and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 mellotron 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 Warsaw to the grime 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 The Motions. All the underground hits.
All the Normal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Residents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
DJ Style,
Junior Murvin,
Robert Hood,
CMW,
Joyce Sims,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Tubeway Army,
Eurythmics,
Khruangbin,
Pole,
Amazonics,
The Litter,
The Black Dice,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Five Americans,
The Vogues,
The New Christs,
The Mojo Men,
the Normal,
Joe Finger,
Au Pairs,
The Mummies,
Donald Byrd,
Subhumans,
Isaac Hayes,
the Fania All-Stars,
Mad Mike,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Moody Blues,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Anthony Braxton,
Man Parrish,
The Names,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Public Enemy,
Johnny Clarke,
Rites of Spring,
The Durutti Column,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Leaves,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Darondo,
The Toasters,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pulsallama,
The Slackers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Red Krayola,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
Amon Düül II,
Archie Shepp,
Unrelated Segments,
Blossom Toes,
Das Ding,
Alton Ellis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.