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 Liberia and from Tokyo.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Rosa Yemen to the grunge 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 Soul Sonic Force. All the underground hits.
All Ten City tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Victims record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
The Cramps,
Cal Tjader,
Nirvana,
Das Ding,
The Count Five,
Cheater Slicks,
Rosa Yemen,
The Litter,
Black Pus,
Monolake,
The Five Americans,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Joey Negro,
Crash Course in Science,
The Fall,
The Moody Blues,
Radio Birdman,
Lee Hazlewood,
Cecil Taylor,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nils Olav,
X-Ray Spex,
Aswad,
Gong,
Angry Samoans,
Brothers Johnson,
Nik Kershaw,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Move,
Kayak,
Anakelly,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Terry Callier,
Ultravox,
The Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Human League,
Radiohead,
Big Daddy Kane,
Robert Hood,
Mary Jane Girls,
Saccharine Trust,
Subhumans,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Negative Approach,
Agent Orange,
Kenny Larkin,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Depeche Mode,
Black Flag,
The Misunderstood,
The Zeros,
Roy Ayers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Con Funk Shun,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Todd Terry,
Babytalk,
Dual Sessions,
Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies, Flamin' Groovies.
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.