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 Ethiopia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 oboe 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Motions. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Neon Judgement record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Surgeon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Iggy Pop,
Yaz,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Erykah Badu,
Subhumans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Audionom,
Barclay James Harvest,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
Michelle Simonal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Absolute Body Control,
10cc,
Bootsy Collins,
Glenn Branca,
Janne Schatter,
The Velvet Underground,
The Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Maleditus Sound,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Cowsills,
Fatback Band,
The Blues Magoos,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Cure,
Royal Trux,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Byron Stingily,
The Toasters,
Unrelated Segments,
These Immortal Souls,
La Düsseldorf,
Dead Boys,
The Victims,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Saints,
Essential Logic,
Silicon Teens,
Eve St. Jones,
Lungfish,
Roger Hodgson,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Lindisfarne,
Parry Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Boz Scaggs,
Mad Mike,
Andrew Hill,
Pierre Henry,
In Retrospect,
Livin' Joy,
The Angels of Light,
The Sonics,
Lalo Schifrin,
Davy DMX,
Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends, Loose Ends.
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.