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 Kazakhstan and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Jacob Miller to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Procol Harum. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sun Ra,
John Holt,
Nik Kershaw,
Popol Vuh,
The Real Kids,
The Smoke,
Black Flag,
Pierre Henry,
Tim Buckley,
Animal Collective,
Gastr Del Sol,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Gories,
Boredoms,
Fear,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gabor Szabo,
Flipper,
Blancmange,
The Cure,
Blossom Toes,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Near,
Porter Ricks,
Banda Bassotti,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Al Stewart,
Crash Course in Science,
The Moleskins,
Archie Shepp,
Parry Music,
Colin Newman,
The Velvet Underground,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Khruangbin,
The Doobie Brothers,
Cheater Slicks,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Searchers,
Ultra Naté,
The Litter,
Moby Grape,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
June of 44,
Maurizio,
The American Breed,
Sarah Menescal,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sex Pistols,
Blake Baxter,
Tubeway Army,
Amon Düül,
Surgeon,
Oblivians,
10cc,
The Fall,
Hasil Adkins,
Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band, Average White Band.
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.