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 United Kingdom and from Philadelphia.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 rhodes 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 The Fuzztones to the rap 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 Rhythm & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fuzztones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dead C,
the Sonics,
Country Teasers,
Reuben Wilson,
The Modern Lovers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Aural Exciters,
The Five Americans,
The Standells,
Harry Pussy,
Crime,
Roger Hodgson,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scan 7,
Pere Ubu,
John Coltrane,
Black Flag,
Magazine,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Supertramp,
Amon Düül,
DNA,
8 Eyed Spy,
Marine Girls,
Ossler,
Danielle Patucci,
Procol Harum,
H. Thieme,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Music Machine,
Ralphi Rosario,
the Swans,
Unrelated Segments,
Lou Christie,
Leonard Cohen,
Camouflage,
the Germs,
Cymande,
Subhumans,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Happenings,
X-102,
James White and The Blacks,
Icehouse,
Aloha Tigers,
Deakin,
Slave,
Clear Light,
Angry Samoans,
Glenn Branca,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nas,
Deepchord,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Monochrome Set,
Young Marble Giants,
Tears for Fears,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Fania All-Stars,
Neil Young,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.