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 Afghanistan and from Portland.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 rhodes 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grunge 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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All The Doobie Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Monks 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a L. Decosne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
Lucky Dragons,
Deakin,
Johnny Osbourne,
Mark Hollis,
Graham Central Station,
cv313,
The Seeds,
The Moleskins,
The Birthday Party,
MC5,
World's Most,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Black Dice,
One Last Wish,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Public Enemy,
Pantytec,
D'Angelo,
B.T. Express,
Rekid,
Patti Smith,
Public Image Ltd.,
Y Pants,
Ponytail,
Buzzcocks,
Cal Tjader,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Beau Brummels,
Boz Scaggs,
the Germs,
Jacob Miller,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eli Mardock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Henry Cow,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
10cc,
Magazine,
Tomorrow,
Toni Rubio,
Los Fastidios,
Kaleidoscope,
Zapp,
Panda Bear,
Albert Ayler,
Metal Thangz,
Gang Green,
Radio Birdman,
the Soft Cell,
The Fall,
The Misunderstood,
Theoretical Girls,
Soulsonic Force,
Pole,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill, Andrew Hill.
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.