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 Vietnam and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Count Five to the grime 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Skriet 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skriet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ash Ra Tempel,
Excepter,
Boredoms,
Eddi Front,
Joe Smooth,
Lalann,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Boogie Down Productions,
The United States of America,
Jeru the Damaja,
Soulsonic Force,
Tim Buckley,
Skarface,
Television Personalities,
Avey Tare,
Donald Byrd,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bang On A Can,
Zapp,
Piero Umiliani,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Fania All-Stars,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
B.T. Express,
Section 25,
Youth Brigade,
Mark Hollis,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Adolescents,
Gang Starr,
Crispy Ambulance,
Judy Mowatt,
the Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Connie Case,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Procol Harum,
Nik Kershaw,
Dead Boys,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pylon,
The Cowsills,
Blake Baxter,
The Busters,
Urselle,
T. Rex,
Country Teasers,
David Axelrod,
Saccharine Trust,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Marine Girls,
Yusef Lateef,
Little Man,
The Smoke,
Peter and Kerry,
Robert Hood,
Unrelated Segments,
Isaac Hayes,
Crooked Eye,
Erasure,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim, Rhythim Is Rhythim.
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.