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 Solomon Islands and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Flamin' Groovies to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Roy Ayers. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxette,
June of 44,
Marvin Gaye,
Aloha Tigers,
Jacques Brel,
the Association,
Cal Tjader,
Wings,
kango's stein massive,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Scan 7,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Silicon Teens,
Pharoah Sanders,
Mo-Dettes,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kayak,
Jacob Miller,
Joey Negro,
Janne Schatter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Ken Boothe,
Excepter,
Bob Dylan,
Dark Day,
The Music Machine,
Stereo Dub,
Radiohead,
F. McDonald,
Ludus,
Lightning Bolt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deadbeat,
The Electric Prunes,
The Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Los Fastidios,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Tropical Tobacco,
Theoretical Girls,
Steve Hackett,
Funkadelic,
Gastr Del Sol,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Grass Roots,
Arthur Verocai,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
ABC,
Robert Görl,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hasil Adkins,
Albert Ayler,
Qualms,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.