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 Uzbekistan and from Manchester.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Roy Ayers to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smiths record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Judy Mowatt,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
ABBA,
Gregory Isaacs,
8 Eyed Spy,
OOIOO,
Procol Harum,
Negative Approach,
China Crisis,
Nation of Ulysses,
Popol Vuh,
Ronan,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
a-ha,
Quando Quango,
Todd Rundgren,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Surgeon,
Mandrill,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Reagan Youth,
Grauzone,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Maleditus Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New Order,
Lou Reed,
Smog,
Lalann,
Anthony Braxton,
Mantronix,
Jeff Lynne,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Soft Machine,
Erasure,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Ossler,
Schoolly D,
Los Fastidios,
Maurizio,
Buzzcocks,
Dawn Penn,
Radio Birdman,
Swell Maps,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Durutti Column,
Fad Gadget,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Cramps,
Flash Fearless,
The Doors,
Camberwell Now,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Wolf Eyes,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Enemy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ornette Coleman,
Pylon,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.