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 Mozambique and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 oboe 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 Quando Quango to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Josef K tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Ituana,
Pet Shop Boys,
Subhumans,
Easy Going,
The Remains,
Talk Talk,
Big Daddy Kane,
Adolescents,
The Fire Engines,
Scan 7,
Ice-T,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Surgeon,
Henry Cow,
John Coltrane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Unwound,
Peter and Kerry,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ossler,
Skaos,
LL Cool J,
The Mummies,
The Offenders,
Joensuu 1685,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Accadde A,
The Modern Lovers,
Grey Daturas,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Amon Düül,
Roger Hodgson,
Matthew Halsall,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Althea and Donna,
Trumans Water,
Underground Resistance,
Black Sheep,
The Cowsills,
Minnie Riperton,
Rosa Yemen,
Gabor Szabo,
The Smoke,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
X-102,
Dark Day,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Bill Near,
Goldenarms,
Ronan,
Fifty Foot Hose,
X-101,
Fatback Band,
Excepter,
Monolake,
UT, UT, UT, UT.
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.