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 St Lucia and from Glasgow.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bobby Hutcherson to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Junior Murvin. All the underground hits.
All Dave Gahan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Fraelich record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sam Rivers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scrapy,
the Germs,
Robert Hood,
Deepchord,
Nas,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Procol Harum,
Franke,
Bobby Sherman,
The Star Department,
Jerry's Kids,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brass Construction,
Livin' Joy,
Crime,
Juan Atkins,
Swell Maps,
Grandmaster Flash,
Goldenarms,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bush Tetras,
The Sound,
PIL,
Khruangbin,
Hoover,
Mars,
Lalo Schifrin,
Lakeside,
The Gun Club,
One Last Wish,
Black Sheep,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Martian,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Grass Roots,
The Sonics,
Blossom Toes,
Al Stewart,
The Gories,
The Fugs,
Joe Smooth,
Lower 48,
Cybotron,
Ultimate Spinach,
Clear Light,
Q and Not U,
Terry Callier,
Idris Muhammad,
Gong,
The Stooges,
Pantytec,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Eve St. Jones,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Easy Going,
David Axelrod,
The Red Krayola,
Saccharine Trust,
Bluetip,
Electric Prunes,
Japan,
Ituana,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.