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 Saudi Arabia and from Beijing.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Animal Collective to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scion 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?
Eve St. Jones,
The Happenings,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Q and Not U,
Simply Red,
Magma,
Los Fastidios,
L. Decosne,
Sixth Finger,
The J.B.'s,
Tomorrow,
Eric Dolphy,
Slave,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Moody Blues,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Magazine,
Harpers Bizarre,
Shoche,
Pet Shop Boys,
Tom Boy,
Pantytec,
Glenn Branca,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oneida,
Bill Wells,
These Immortal Souls,
KRS-One,
Connie Case,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Mark Hollis,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
David Axelrod,
DJ Sneak,
Camberwell Now,
Minny Pops,
Rod Modell,
Stiv Bators,
Hasil Adkins,
Donny Hathaway,
The Divine Comedy,
Ronnie Foster,
Main Source,
Q65,
Reagan Youth,
The Music Machine,
Erasure,
The Alarm Clocks,
Michelle Simonal,
Aswad,
The Birthday Party,
Deadbeat,
Bootsy Collins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marmalade,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
Jeru the Damaja,
Unwound,
Franke,
Bang On A Can,
K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass, K-Klass.
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.