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 United States and from Milan.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
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 Divine Comedy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
The Cure,
Amon Düül,
Nik Kershaw,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Gap Band,
KRS-One,
Bob Dylan,
Tomorrow,
The Angels of Light,
Quadrant,
Porter Ricks,
Ohio Players,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
The Flesh Eaters,
X-Ray Spex,
John Coltrane,
Yaz,
Dead Boys,
Blancmange,
The Moleskins,
the Soft Cell,
The Stooges,
Visage,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Spandau Ballet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ponytail,
The Neon Judgement,
Los Fastidios,
The Vogues,
The Barracudas,
Sixth Finger,
Ronan,
Kayak,
Gang Green,
Grey Daturas,
Das Ding,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Walker Brothers,
Joey Negro,
World's Most,
Traffic Nightmare,
Cybotron,
Marshall Jefferson,
Anthony Braxton,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Holt,
Mars,
Model 500,
Zero Boys,
Dark Day,
Pantytec,
Kenny Larkin,
Prince Buster,
Funky Four + One,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth Band, Manfred Mann's Earth 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.