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 Equatorial Guinea and from Accra.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Freddie Wadling to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Knickerbockers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang Green,
The Remains,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Excepter,
Monks,
Black Moon,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Sonics,
Man Eating Sloth,
Japan,
Dark Day,
Kenny Larkin,
T. Rex,
Royal Trux,
Rapeman,
Sugar Minott,
Heaven 17,
Y Pants,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Janne Schatter,
Buzzcocks,
Unrelated Segments,
Sixth Finger,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bobby Sherman,
Wings,
Sonic Youth,
Adolescents,
Althea and Donna,
David McCallum,
Michelle Simonal,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nik Kershaw,
Khruangbin,
Rotary Connection,
Outsiders,
The Misunderstood,
The Pretty Things,
Altered Images,
Neil Young,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Foxx,
Reuben Wilson,
Aswad,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jeff Mills,
the Bar-Kays,
The Star Department,
The J.B.'s,
Young Marble Giants,
Davy DMX,
Jacques Brel,
Youth Brigade,
Camberwell Now,
Siglo XX,
Wally Richardson,
Desert Stars,
Black Pus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Minutemen,
The Gladiators,
Accadde A,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.