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 Czech Republic and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 Stereo Dub to the grunge 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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All Massinfluence tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Grass Roots 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
8 Eyed Spy,
Janne Schatter,
New Order,
Brick,
Masters at Work,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Yusef Lateef,
The Red Krayola,
Marmalade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Massinfluence,
Delta 5,
Con Funk Shun,
Robert Wyatt,
Smog,
Scott Walker,
Soul Sonic Force,
Visage,
Negative Approach,
Chris & Cosey,
Nico,
Minnie Riperton,
Eric Copeland,
Crash Course in Science,
Outsiders,
Kurtis Blow,
Oblivians,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Essential Logic,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Tom Boy,
Matthew Bourne,
The Alarm Clocks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Harry Pussy,
Swans,
The Raincoats,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Yaz,
The Smiths,
Peter & Gordon,
Wire,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Steve Hackett,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Infiniti,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moleskins,
Fear,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jeru the Damaja,
Danielle Patucci,
The Dirtbombs,
Royal Trux,
Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier, Terry Callier.
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.