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 Romania and from Hong Kong.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Nils Olav to the disco 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 The Vogues. All the underground hits.
All Niagra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tears for Fears record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fatback Band,
Ohio Players,
Mars,
Ice-T,
Isaac Hayes,
Easy Going,
The Martian,
Thee Headcoats,
Fela Kuti,
Prince Buster,
Eric Dolphy,
X-102,
Toni Rubio,
Infiniti,
Ornette Coleman,
The Sisters of Mercy,
John Foxx,
Procol Harum,
Henry Cow,
Pere Ubu,
The Walker Brothers,
Hardrive,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mark Hollis,
Dual Sessions,
Deepchord,
Joe Finger,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bobby Byrd,
Marshall Jefferson,
Nas,
Animal Collective,
the Swans,
Ultimate Spinach,
Derrick May,
Sandy B,
Visage,
Sight & Sound,
The Index,
Ultravox,
The Blackbyrds,
Surgeon,
Babytalk,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lou Reed,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Pus,
Hot Snakes,
Boz Scaggs,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
F. McDonald,
Silicon Teens,
Carl Craig,
June Days,
The Fall,
Sixth Finger,
Massinfluence,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Dave Clark Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.