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 St Lucia and from Calgary.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 The Men They Couldn't Hang to the punk 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 Talk Talk. All the underground hits.
All Quadrant tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blackbyrds 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?
Moby Grape,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bauhaus,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
Morten Harket,
Judy Mowatt,
Suicide,
Animal Collective,
David McCallum,
The Knickerbockers,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Womack,
Delta 5,
Terry Callier,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
These Immortal Souls,
Ludus,
Franke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Funkadelic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Television Personalities,
Symarip,
Surgeon,
Tom Boy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Wire,
Basic Channel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
DJ Sneak,
The American Breed,
Mandrill,
Skaos,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Boredoms,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Visage,
Amon Düül,
The Offenders,
JFA,
Toni Rubio,
Ronan,
The Fire Engines,
Gong,
Girls At Our Best!,
Lyres,
Funky Four + One,
Pet Shop Boys,
Radio Birdman,
The Fall,
John Cale,
The Martian,
China Crisis,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Glenn Branca,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.