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 Slovenia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the linndrum 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 The Martian 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 DNA. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bush Tetras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
This Heat,
Lightning Bolt,
Scan 7,
Trumans Water,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sex Pistols,
Average White Band,
Donny Hathaway,
Neil Young,
David Bowie,
Black Moon,
In Retrospect,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Litter,
The Dave Clark Five,
Wally Richardson,
Hashim,
X-101,
Babytalk,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
X-Ray Spex,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Amon Düül II,
Chris Corsano,
Skarface,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Nils Olav,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deakin,
Stereo Dub,
Marvin Gaye,
Amazonics,
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Mark Hollis,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans,
The Birthday Party,
Minutemen,
Robert Hood,
The Moody Blues,
Roger Hodgson,
Scratch Acid,
The Tremeloes,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Misunderstood,
Ludus,
Anakelly,
One Last Wish,
The Real Kids,
Panda Bear,
Dead Boys,
Lower 48,
The Fugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ice-T,
OOIOO,
The Monochrome Set,
Michelle Simonal,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.