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 Chad and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 kango's stein massive to the crunk 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 Surgeon. All the underground hits.
All Heaven 17 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin 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 Misunderstood,
Livin' Joy,
The Gladiators,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Black Dice,
The Velvet Underground,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Suburban Knight,
Leonard Cohen,
Wolf Eyes,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Royal Trux,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Standells,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Delta 5,
Fugazi,
Subhumans,
Stiv Bators,
Alphaville,
The Cowsills,
Loose Ends,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roxette,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Simply Red,
X-Ray Spex,
Little Man,
China Crisis,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Electric Prunes,
Lebanon Hanover,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Walker Brothers,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smoke,
Monks,
Patti Smith,
Tom Boy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Trojans,
Sam Rivers,
Ken Boothe,
Adolescents,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Jeff Lynne,
Soulsonic Force,
Nirvana,
Reuben Wilson,
Bill Near,
the Fania All-Stars,
Glambeats Corp.,
Schoolly D,
Clear Light,
Scan 7,
D'Angelo,
Funky Four + One,
The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C, The Dead C.
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.