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 Nauru and from Milan.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Peter and Kerry to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Toni Rubio. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 mellotron and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brick record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tears for Fears,
Trumans Water,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mission of Burma,
Alton Ellis,
The Neon Judgement,
The Toasters,
The Last Poets,
Tom Boy,
The Detroit Cobras,
These Immortal Souls,
Flipper,
Cecil Taylor,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marine Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
AZ,
Terrestrial Tones,
Eden Ahbez,
Freddie Wadling,
Stetsasonic,
The Techniques,
Adolescents,
Bobby Womack,
Black Bananas,
Suburban Knight,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bob Dylan,
Fluxion,
Slick Rick,
Pere Ubu,
Tres Demented,
cv313,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
The Music Machine,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aloha Tigers,
Khruangbin,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Youth Brigade,
Rekid,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Wire,
The Selecter,
Con Funk Shun,
Los Fastidios,
Todd Rundgren,
Bobby Byrd,
Derrick Morgan,
Mark Hollis,
Nick Fraelich,
Blossom Toes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Toni Rubio,
the Normal,
U.S. Maple,
Peter and Kerry,
The Cure,
the Human League, the Human League, the Human League, the Human League.
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.