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 Kuwait 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Gian Franco Pienzio to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Erasure. All the underground hits.
All Sad Lovers and Giants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
Tropical Tobacco,
Prince Buster,
The Leaves,
Minor Threat,
The Motions,
Leonard Cohen,
Zero Boys,
Gregory Isaacs,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Peter & Gordon,
the Swans,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Mandrill,
Iggy Pop,
Dawn Penn,
Sandy B,
Eli Mardock,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers,
The Young Rascals,
Mark Hollis,
The Last Poets,
Crooked Eye,
The Cure,
DNA,
Harmonia,
Section 25,
Gichy Dan,
Fat Boys,
The Beau Brummels,
The Doors,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Frankie Knuckles,
Saccharine Trust,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Litter,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bill Wells,
The Kinks,
Lou Reed,
The Index,
The Doobie Brothers,
Khruangbin,
The Cramps,
Aswad,
F. McDonald,
Radio Birdman,
Ralphi Rosario,
Easy Going,
cv313,
48th St. Collective,
Vainqueur,
Groovy Waters,
Ituana,
Absolute Body Control,
The Walker Brothers,
Ronan, Ronan, Ronan, Ronan.
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.