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 Uruguay 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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mo-Dettes to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Eric B and Rakim tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June of 44 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Barracudas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Toni Rubio,
T. Rex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Warsaw,
Isaac Hayes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Byrd,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kaleidoscope,
Pylon,
Arab on Radar,
Bobby Womack,
Jandek,
The Kinks,
Nas,
Colin Newman,
the Association,
Byron Stingily,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Franke,
Minnie Riperton,
Cecil Taylor,
Moby Grape,
Robert Wyatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bush Tetras,
The Stooges,
Joyce Sims,
Ultra Naté,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Donny Hathaway,
Stiv Bators,
The Busters,
The Skatalites,
Agitation Free,
New Order,
Archie Shepp,
Bang On A Can,
Mr. Review,
The Fuzztones,
The Cramps,
Fluxion,
The Moody Blues,
The Searchers,
Quando Quango,
John Holt,
The Mummies,
Avey Tare,
Derrick May,
Crooked Eye,
Ponytail,
Cameo,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Saints,
Duran Duran,
Chrome,
The American Breed,
Slave,
The Raincoats,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.