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 Jordan and from Lagos.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Donny Hathaway to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Peter and Kerry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rosa Yemen,
the Bar-Kays,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Techniques,
Swans,
L. Decosne,
The Black Dice,
Subhumans,
Marshall Jefferson,
Cymande,
The Neon Judgement,
The Monochrome Set,
The United States of America,
a-ha,
Brand Nubian,
Infiniti,
The Smiths,
Saccharine Trust,
Alphaville,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Tim Buckley,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Monks,
Bootsy Collins,
Kayak,
Reagan Youth,
Spoonie Gee,
In Retrospect,
Todd Terry,
The Martian,
Can,
Bang On A Can,
Nick Fraelich,
China Crisis,
These Immortal Souls,
Pussy Galore,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Desert Stars,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Sarah Menescal,
Ohio Players,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The American Breed,
James White and The Blacks,
Lalo Schifrin,
Charles Mingus,
Theoretical Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
Hoover,
The Red Krayola,
Bad Manners,
Bush Tetras,
Maleditus Sound,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Peter & Gordon,
Arab on Radar,
The Residents,
John Lydon,
Television,
Nation of Ulysses,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Japan, Japan, Japan, Japan.
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.